Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 274

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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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Necromancer School’s Summoning Genius — Episode 274
Atop the Washburn Mountain Range, the Demon Lord’s Castle.
“……Failed. Again.”
Upon a throne constructed of countless skulls sat an androgynous man with long hair, his chin propped in his hand.
[Unexpected development detected.]
Before him, an Undead creature with neither facial features nor a distinct form—something resembling living clay—spoke in halting tones.
[The opening phase of the operation succeeded. Kaijak entered through the Mad Beast’s mouth. Mad Beast secured. Mad Beast pursued a different student, not Lorain, with persistence. Mad Beast defeated by that student.]
[That is strange, indeed.]
A Zombie Butler in formal livery, standing beside the throne, picked up the thread.
[If the operation had proceeded as planned, Mad Beast should have followed the Dark traces of that Ancient Undead met in Scream Jungle. But if it pursued a third party rather than Lorain, then…]
“Alaje.”
The lips of Magnus, who had been listening in silence, parted.
“Who was this creature that Mad Beast followed?”
[Simon. A special first-year student admitted through the Witch of Death. Specializing in Summoning Magic. First place in this BMAT Exam.]
“Curious.”
Magnus licked his lips with his tongue.
“So that one also had a connection to the Witch of Death. Why would Mad Beast have pursued him?”
[You’re suggesting that the 7th Legion Commander might be Simon rather than Lorain Arkbold, sir?]
The Zombie Butler continued.
[However, he was not present at the time of Talaje’s death.]
“That does trouble me somewhat. Still, we’re dealing with a cunning Witch of Death. We must consider every possibility.”
Magnus closed his eyes briefly, falling into contemplation before he spoke.
“For now, maintain Lorain as the top priority target. Simultaneously, begin investigations into Simon. Anything at all, no matter how trivial.”
The Zombie Butler and Alaje bowed and began to withdraw.
“Ah, one more thing.”
Magnus opened his mouth.
“Does that creature talk any better now? The Ancient Undead from the 7th Legion we captured last time.”
The Zombie Butler shook his head.
[Still nothing. No matter what we try, not a single word.]
“Mmm. A loyal friend to a Legion already dissolved once. Hardly befitting an Undead.”
Magnus waved his hand in dismissal, signaling them to leave.
‘……Ancient Undead.’
After his subordinates had withdrawn, Magnus rose from the throne and walked with an unhurried gait toward the window, gazing out into the distance.
A sheer mountain range sprawled below, dizzying in its descent.
‘I need more Ancient Undead for my purpose.’

* * *
Now, only two BMAT Exams remained—the pivotal tests that would define the entire unified second semester.
Simon’s record had been nothing short of excellent.
1st BMAT: 1st place.
2nd BMAT: 10th place.
3rd BMAT: 1st place.
In that light, the 10th-place finish in the second exam stung a little, but if Simon could secure the top ranks again in the fourth and fifth exams, graduating as the first-year’s top student was no longer out of reach.
‘Good! Don’t settle here—push harder!’
With time before the fourth BMAT, the students loosened their grip on tension and proceeded through each day of classes with measured pacing.
The first class was Holy Defense Magic.
“Today we’ll cover the subjects taught at Efnel.”
The elderly man in a pristine white martial robe, gracefully wielding a Folding Fan, was none other than Parahan Imidor—the professor of Holy Defense Magic.
He had once served as a bishop in Efnel and now held the position of Chancellor of the Anti-Sacred Federation Association.
The figurehead leading Priests who had defected from the Federation, he was a professor whose mere presence stirred far more sensation than even Byeol-Ya’s arrival had.
Many students harbored resistance or outright dislike of Parahan because a Priest was teaching Necromancers, but none could deny that this course proved genuinely invaluable.
“The students of Efnel are your greatest adversaries and your most formidable obstacle. You should prepare yourselves to face them four or five times before graduation.”
At Parahan’s words, the Class A students swallowed hard with tense expressions.
For young Necromancers barely fledged, Priests represented an unknown and fearful force. Many students’ dread had only deepened after enduring the Saint Incident.
“I have a question, sir.”
A male student raised his hand.
Occasionally, students from extremist families who disapproved of Parahan posed questions in this manner, fragmenting the flow of the lesson.
“Go ahead.”
Yet Parahan actually welcomed his students’ engagement and questions about his teaching.
“I don’t understand. Why should we need to learn something like lessons from Priests?”
“I’ll explain shortly.”
But before Parahan could grant anyone else the floor, another male student shot to his feet without permission.
“Your intentions seem suspicious, Professor! Do you think the students of Kizen or Efnel are superior?”
A question guaranteed to earn criticism no matter which way you answered it.
It was essentially the unanswerable question of the century—like asking whether you preferred your mother or your father.
“I’ve experienced both Efnel and Kizen.”
Parahan stroked his beard and spoke in a measured tone.
“In terms of raw ability, I’d call it an even match. But when it comes to mental fortitude, you cannot compare yourselves to the young people of Efnel.”
Murmurs rippled through the lecture hall.
The students whispered among themselves. The one who’d posed the question seized the opportunity, raising his voice triumphantly.
“Professor! That statement just now—!”
Snap!
Parahan instantly pointed a finger at the student. A stream of sacred energy shot forward like a bullet, stopping just before the bridge of his nose.
“Gasp!”
The student’s eyes went wide. He was convinced, without understanding how, that the sacred energy had pierced straight through his forehead.
“This. Precisely this.”
The student stood frozen, his legs trembling visibly. A dark stain began to spread across his trousers.
“The students of Efnel undergo training that is, shall we say, somewhat inhumane and disrespectful of human dignity. They believe that faith and mental strength are the true source of holiness. I suggest you visit the lavatory.”
An assistant professor led the male student away, disappearing toward the back of the lecture hall.
Parahan returned to the podium, waving his folding fan.
“Of course, I regard this as a difference in teaching methodology. In actual combat, your flexibility, creativity, and ability to generate variables are far superior, I believe. Now, let us continue.”
He walked toward the blackboard at the front of the lecture hall.
“Efnel’s core disciplines number seven.”
He picked up chalk and wrote each subject carefully, one character at a time.
Blessing Studies
Sacred Dynamics
Divine Water Studies
Healing Studies
Protection Studies
Holy Spirit Studies
Holy Combat Art
Parahan set down the chalk and smiled, stroking his beard.
“Don’t these look familiar to you?”
The students began murmuring. Jamie Victoria raised her hand eagerly.
“I’m Jamie Victoria! The top three subjects! The concept is similar to the Dark Triad! Curse, Dark Reversal Magic, and Summoning Magic!”
“Excellent. Five points for participation.”
Jamie clenched her fist in delight.
“Just as you choose your majors, the students of Efnel select one of these disciplines. And when you face a Priest, if you observe the White Magic they employ carefully, you can quite easily determine their specialization.”
Parahan’s gaze sharpened.
“Once you know your opponent’s major, you’ve already gleaned vast information. The types of White Magic they use, their strengths and weaknesses, their combat style, temperament, even their offense-defense patterns. All this knowledge, gained utterly free of charge.”
Simon, unaware of his own response, found himself nodding rapidly.
“Now you understand.”
Parahan set down the chalk and smiled.
“Why you must know your enemy.”
The lecture hall fell silent once more.
Leaving aside the fact that the Professor was a Priest, there was no denying that Parahan’s lectures were genuinely instructive.
“Fortunately, Priests do not delve deeply into strategies against Necromancers. Learning wicked and unholy practices is prohibited outright, and they have an obsessive compulsion never to do anything that might shake their faith even slightly. Which means you should all the more thoroughly dissect your opponents and ruthlessly exploit them—that is how a Necromancer, disadvantaged by elemental compatibility, defeats a Priest. In a word—”
Parahan tapped the blackboard with his folding fan, adding emphasis.
“Like a proper Necromancer.”
Simon nearly applauded. Other students were swallowing hard, audibly impressed.
“Now then, let us examine each discipline in detail.”
In truth, this “Holy Defense Magic” lecture covered material Simon had already thoroughly studied beforehand.
Before the break, before crossing into the Sacred Federation, Rette had drilled him relentlessly to avoid detection by Heresy Inquisitors.
As a result, Simon’s understanding of the Sacred Federation was deep enough to fool even seasoned Heresy Inquisitors.
“Is there perhaps a student who can explain Protection Studies for us?”
Simon raised his hand and answered.
“I’m Simon. It’s a discipline specialized in defensive barriers and the deployment of sacred protective wards.”
“Well done. Could you name one representative barrier spell—”
“The Hymn of Praise Ward. It’s the White Magic Priests use to buy themselves time to cast blessings. Since it operates in the realm of the unconscious, a Chaos Curse can shatter it.”
The assistant professors of Holy Defense Magic visibly dropped their jaws, their expressions asking wordlessly: ‘Who is this guy?’
Parahan burst into a hearty laugh and spoke.
“Well done—no, excellent. I’ll give you ten points for your conduct.”
“Thank you!”
Holy Defense Magic class was nothing but a points machine from Simon’s perspective.
Merin, seated beside him, jabbed his ribs with her elbow and leaned in. “Hey, what’s your secret? When did you study Holy Defense Magic so thoroughly?”
Watching her envious expression, Simon smiled slightly. “Oh, you know. Just picked things up here and there.”
“Ugh, that’s so unfair! Teach me!”

* * *

Today’s focus was learning to accept Holiness into one’s body—overcoming the fear of it and mastering the technique of repelling Holiness with Dark Power. Those were the core objectives.
“Aaaahhhhh!”
“Gasp! Gasp!”
The students’ reactions surpassed even those from the Poison Magic courses.
Even the smallest amount of Holiness injected into their bodies sent them screaming as though losing their minds.
‘Focus. Focus.’
Simon found himself tense for a different reason.
“Tell us if it becomes unbearable,” the teaching assistant in front of Simon said, holding his arm as he let Holiness flow through it. The assistants were all former Priests.
“Ngh!”
Simon’s face went pale.
“A-are you alright?”
“…Ah, yes. For now, yes.”
His voice came out ragged and strained with pain, but in his mind, Simon felt something closer to doubt—or perhaps embarrassment.
‘I’m getting better at faking this all the time.’
First, he had to perform agony convincingly. Second, he had to guard against accidentally channeling Holiness himself.
Sometimes, when he became absorbed during Holy Defense Magic lessons, Holiness would suddenly surge from his hands. It had happened once or twice, and fortunately he hadn’t been caught. Since then, he’d been even more careful, watching himself constantly.
“Ahem, hold on a moment.”
Just then, Parahan approached.
“I’ll guide this student myself.”
“Ah, yes, Professor.”
The assistant stepped back, and Parahan took Simon’s hand, letting Holiness flow through it.
Simon’s face contorted.
“Are you managing? Holiness and Dark Power stem from the same root, after all. Now, use your Dark Power to push out the Holiness that’s entered your body.”
“Yes!”
Simon raised his Dark Power without difficulty, suppressing the Holiness that had entered him.
“Mm. Well done.”
He’d deliberately failed once, then succeeded on the second attempt. Parahan nodded with satisfaction and dismissed Simon back to his seat.
‘Did I succeed too quickly?’
Simon glanced down at his palms, then shook his head and returned to his place.
Thus, today’s Holy Defense Magic class came to an end.
“They’ve got steak on the limited menu today! Let’s move!”
Dick shouted, tucking his textbook into his waistband.
Merin and Kamibarez were preparing themselves, and Simon was just rising when—
“Simon.”
A Holy Defense Magic teaching assistant suddenly called out to him.
“Professor Parahan wants a quick word with you.”
“What?”
In the distance, Simon could see Parahan waving a folding fan, waiting.
“You all go ahead,” Simon said. Dick’s eyes widened.
“Wait, what? Is he offering to take you on as a direct disciple?”
“There he goes again, not thinking before he speaks. Required courses don’t have direct disciples anyway.”
While Dick and Merin bickered, Simon hurried toward Parahan.
“Come to my office with me.”
“Yes, of course.”
Parahan’s office was on the floor above.
The two entered a neat room with white wallpaper and sat across from each other on the sofa.

“Care for some tea?”
“No, thank you.”
Parahan nodded and snapped open his folding fan with a sharp flourish.
At that signal, the curtains swept across the windows with a whisper, the lights extinguished, and a dense darkness settled over the room. In the same moment, sacred magic circles activated, flooding the space with light.
“P-Professor?”
“Don’t be alarmed. It’s merely a simple device to block sound and sight from outside. Now, I have just one question for you.”
Parahan stroked his beard, his expression turning gravely serious.
“Can you wield Sacred Energy?”

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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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