Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 243

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Summoning Genius of the Necromancer School – Chapter 243
“Simon.”
On the way to the Ball Hall, Lorain approached and spoke to him quietly.
“Do you know about the Ball Tradition?”
“……?”
Simon clearly had no idea. Princess Molly clapped her hands together and interjected.
“If you don’t mind, I’d be happy to explain it myself!”
This tradition originated when the ancient Empire of Talhern conquered the Kingdom of Dresden and held a ball in their palace. Since the ball’s purpose was to comfort soldiers who had suffered in the war, it is said to have been terribly depraved.
In particular, a large gallows had been prepared in the center of the Ball Hall, where the King of Dresden, dressed in tattered rags, was dragged forth.
It was the event’s greatest spectacle.
The Emperor of Talhern himself manipulated the gallows and spoke.
—Make one final wish.
Of course, the Emperor had no intention of granting the wish. It was a form of entertainment.
Several royal captives had already met their deaths here, and it was a sight to behold—those noble bloodlines all soiling themselves, begging for their lives to be spared.
The Emperor laughed heartily and carried out the execution, which provided good spectacle for the banquet guests.
At the same time, the Emperor intended to teach the people of Dresden a lesson.
Those whom you revered were truly so insignificant. That you were conquered by us was inevitable.
But the King of Dresden was different.
He climbed the gallows of his own accord, held his head high, and spoke.
—Provide three meals daily for my people.
Then he himself activated the gallows.
The Emperor was genuinely moved by the sight. He forbade the indiscriminate looting and crime that had been occurring in the capital city of Langoustin. Moreover, he ceased the exploitation of the conquered kingdom and instituted relief policies, and even granted the kingdom partial autonomy.
Afterward, the royal family members, who were fated to have their necks severed, survived that banquet and their bloodline continues to this day.
To honor the king who sacrificed himself for his people, the royal house held a ball each year on the day Langoustin fell.
On this occasion, members of the royal family descended from the king could grant guests who attended the ball a single “wish.”
Of course, there were no wishes that were excessive, related to money or property, or disrespectful.
—Lord Ronan seems to be struggling with his health, so from this moment onward, please refrain from smoking.
This was roughly the level of propriety.
An unspoken rule that both the wisher and the granter should enjoy the exchange. That is why many people participated in the ball without hesitation.
‘So such a tradition existed.’
Now that he knew the story, Simon saw the ball in a new light.
At first, he had thought it was a luxurious social gathering where the royal house showed off their connections and wealth, but it was actually a long-established event rooted in historical fact.
Above all, he found it admirable that although their kingdom had been conquered by an empire and their king had died—which must have been their deep wound—they had transformed it into a tradition and celebrated it like this.
‘So what wish will the princess make? I’m curious.’
Soon, the three of them arrived at the entrance to the Ball Hall.
Princess Molly spoke.
“I’ll go in last. The three of you, please enter first.”
“Yes.”
Simon was staring at the door with tense eyes when Serne, ever so subtly, sidled up next to him.
Then she extended a delicate hand toward Simon.
‘……Why is she asking for my hand again?’
When Simon said nothing, Serne smiled sweetly and waved her hand playfully.
“My arm hurts, Simon~”
Serne’s reason for personally attending this tiresome ball was to ensure that Simon’s name and that of the Ivory Tower were mentioned together before many people. She had been aiming for a paired entrance with Simon from the start.
Of course, Lorain was not about to allow that.
She stepped between them, seizing Serne, and spoke.
“Go on, Simon.”
Simon nodded gratefully and quickly approached the door.
Serne tried to follow, but Lorain’s airtight defense blocked her.
“What! Let go!”
“Couples enter together—just the two of them. Don’t throw a tantrum. Students are supposed to enter one at a time.”
“I don’t care!”
Lorain was solely focused on thwarting Serne’s scheme.
But as she watched that cunning Serne struggling to recruit Simon for the Ivory Tower, her thinking shifted slightly.
‘I wish Simon would help me work in Kizen even after he graduates.’
In the end, she would have to respect Simon’s decision two years from now, but that didn’t mean Kizen, the supreme authority among authorities, had to stand idle with its arms folded.
She was confident that Simon would grow into talent essential to Kizen, so she resolved to take a more active approach.
‘Simon to the Ivory Tower.’
‘Simon to Kizen.’
As the two girls sketched out different futures, Simon, who had gone ahead alone, opened the doors to the Ball Hall and stepped through.
‘Wow, oh wow…!’
Everything sparkled and gleamed. She’d never seen a Ball Hall this grand and magnificent.
The Ball Hall stretched across three stories, with the center completely open so you could look down from the upper levels. Each floor had food laid out in different themes, and there was plenty of space for dancing.
Just then, the Butler holding an Amplification Crystal called out loudly.
“Simon Polentia, Kizen’s special admission number one student from the Kingdom of Baldwin, makes his entrance!”
Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.
Applause erupted from various corners. The murmur of voices mixed with the word “Kizen.”
And right after, the doors swung open wide.
“Serne Eindarc, official successor to the Ivory Tower and Kizen’s special admission number two student, makes her entrance!”
Serne, who had appeared right after Simon, walked forward with her radiant ivory-colored hair streaming behind her.
Though she was annoyed at not having her name called together with his, she approached with an easy smile, lightly linked her arm through Simon’s, and waved to the crowd.
“Lorain Ackbold, daughter of the Witch of Death, Neftis, makes her entrance.”
This time, gasps escaped even from the dignified high nobility. Lorain, who rarely showed her face at official gatherings, had appeared in a black dress.
“The daughter of Neftis, no less!”
“The scale of this has grown. The crown really pulled out all the stops this year.”
The appearance of three Kizen students was unprecedented. Nobles from the upper floors began descending to pay their respects.
Several people around them tried to strike up conversations or request dances, but the three merely smiled and did not respond enthusiastically.
The three were on a Protection Mission, and this was the site of that mission.
“Princess Molly makes her entrance!”
At last, the star of tonight’s ball—a member of the royal family—appeared.
All the nobles rose from their seats and applauded. Molly, dressed in a white gown, bowed with elegant grace.
“I am grateful to all our distinguished guests who have graced this occasion with your presence.”
She bowed to the assembled nobility, then slowly walked toward the center of the hall.
Simon realized what stood in the middle of the reception hall.
‘That’s the execution platform from history books!’
At first, he hadn’t even recognized it as one.
And no wonder—the platform had its blades removed and was decorated with such lavish ornamentation: climbing vines, ribbons, and lighting that transformed it into something splendid.
Molly, being of royal blood, climbed onto that platform and rang a bell. A clear, sweet tone rang out.
“Even as you are occupied with life at Kizen, I am truly grateful that you have come at my insistence. Let me now make a wish.”
She continued in a clear, ringing voice.
“Though you three are bound by your Protection Mission, for this night alone I hope you will move freely as guests at this Ball Tradition, enjoy this moment, and find respite from your fatigue. Will you grant me this, honored guests?”
The nobles laughed warmly and raised their glasses.
Princess Molly raised hers as well, and Simon, Serne, and Lorain, reading the room, quickly lifted glasses from nearby.
“To the prosperity of the kingdom!”
“To prosperity!”
Everyone drained their glasses, and Princess Molly rang the bell once more. Applause poured out from all corners.
‘She made a wish on our behalf.’
There was no reason to refuse such a wish. The barb about bodyguards coming to parties to have fun lost its sting, and even Kizen couldn’t raise objections when the client gave such an order.
As Simon was thinking this, Molly’s gaze had quietly turned toward him.
‘The truth is, I wanted to wish for something else.’
She had wanted to wish for Simon to graduate and come to the Kingdom of Dresden. If that couldn’t happen, she’d wanted to wish for herself to open her Core and become a Necromancer.
But those were merely personal desires, things that couldn’t be wished upon during the Ball Tradition.
And so the atmosphere of the ball grew warmer and more convivial.
Thanks to Molly’s wish, the three could now move freely among the guests, sampling food and enjoying conversation.
“I’m Simon Polentia.”
“I’ve heard tales of your exploits. My own son is a 1st Year at Rocksum.”
With such distinguished people invited to a royal ball, there was nothing to lose by making a good impression.
Simon engaged in conversation with various guests, broadening his knowledge.
Lorain, saying she didn’t really fit the party atmosphere, quietly slipped away. Serne conversed with only a select few people around her.
They were completely blocking other people from approaching her, but it turned out they were just repeating the same things to her over and over.
As the party atmosphere was reaching its peak,
Thunder rumbled.
With a crack of thunder, the lights in the hall went out.
People cried out in surprise and murmured anxiously. After the bright festive mood had settled into quiet, the sound of pouring rain could be heard from outside—whoooosh.
‘Rain?’
Simon looked out the window and saw sheets of heavy rain coming down in thick curtains.
“The butlers have gone to check on the Mana Generator and Magic Circle. Please wait a moment!”
With the lights gone from the old castle, an eerie atmosphere settled over everything. The guests stopped dancing and sat quietly nearby, making conversation.
Simon’s legs were aching, so he sat in a chair. Serne had appeared from somewhere and was now clinging to his arm.
“I’m scared~”
Simon felt a chill creep down his arm and answered with measured calm.
“I’m more afraid of you.”
“That’s not fair!”
Lorain, who had stepped out onto the terrace at some point, joined Simon’s side.
Her ruby-like eyes swept across the surroundings. In the darkness, her pupils glowed an even deeper red.
“Is something wrong, Simon?”
“The lighting seems to have developed a minor problem.”
Lorain nodded dismissively and settled into her seat with a glass of wine.
Splash, splash!
Then came the sound of wet military boots from the entrance. With the banquet hall now silent, the footsteps echoing down the corridor sounded unnaturally loud.
Crack-crack-crack!
Another flash of lightning split the darkness, and the guests flinched.
Every guest on the first floor turned their gaze toward the entrance, where those splashing footsteps were coming from.
Bang!
The door swung open.
Drip, drip.
A man drenched entirely in water appeared in the doorway.
He wore tattered rags, his cheeks gaunt, his eyes hollow as he let out a spasmodic laugh, his shoulders twitching erratically. The stench of alcohol poured from his mouth, and one eye hung slack.
“You all seem so happy. Hehehehehehe.”
Clap. Clap. Clap.
The drenched man clapped three times. Then his eyes turned cold as he swept his gaze across the room.
“But I’m not.”
Crack-crack-crack!
Lightning flashed, the room brightened for a moment, then fell back into darkness. In that brief instant of illumination, those who glimpsed the man’s face gasped in horror, their hands flying to their mouths.
He was none other than the third prince of Kizen who had been exiled, the 2nd Year of Kizen, and the former chairman of Noble.
It was Prince Andre.
“Yet here stands someone I never imagined would appear.”
He turned toward Simon, his mouth twisting into a cruel smirk.
“Simon Polentia.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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