Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 317

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Necromancer School’s Summoning Genius Episode 317
The Hematology class continued.
Walter swept through the rows of students, his autumnal-brown hair flowing like scattered leaves.
“As you all know, the greatest weakness of Blood Magic is that it consumes the caster’s own blood directly.”
His gentle voice possessed an almost magical pull on the students’ attention.
“It’s certainly powerful, but the risk is substantial. In truth, Blood Magic has evolved precisely to artificially inflate the amount of blood used or to achieve stronger effects with less of it. But.”
He raised the syringe in his hand as if it were something infinitely precious.
“That paradigm is shifting now.”
The Hematopoietic Injection.
A technique that artificially implants hematopoietic cells—which manufacture the principal components of blood—into another person’s body.
While already in use for various medical procedures, this injection, Walter explained, involved harvesting hematopoietic cells from a Blood Slime, a monster that produces blood infinitely, and injecting them into the human body.
“Where is blood produced? Not in the heart, but in the bone marrow within the bones. The marrow contains hematopoietic stem cells that combine the principal components of blood.”
But, Walter emphasized, raising his voice slightly.
“The Blood Slime is a monster without bones, yet it possesses special hematopoietic stem cells capable of producing the principal components of blood. That’s the crux of it. With this injection, you’ll be able to produce blood at two to three times the rate of an ordinary person.”
The classroom stirred.
If true, it was an extraordinarily effective injection.
Not only could students use Blood Magic two to three times more than usual, but the risk felt from excessive blood loss would diminish. Using stronger Blood Magic would become possible.
But.
‘…This sounds almost too good to be true.’
Simon, who harbored caution toward Walter, rested his chin in his hand with that thought.
Had he overheard such a claim elsewhere, he would have dismissed it as snake oil, but the speaker was none other than the highest authority in his field—Professor Walter of Kizen.
Just then, a hand shot up brightly.
“Jamie Victoria here! Are there no side effects to the injection?”
Of course, other students shared Simon’s doubts. Walter answered with a kindly smile.
“You might experience some dizziness or numbness in your limbs, but there are no side effects severe enough to be a real concern. It’s similar in composition to the Blood Potion you all drink.”
Another hand rose beside Jamie’s.
“Scott Snyder here! Human blood maintains a certain ratio, doesn’t it? If it suddenly doubles or triples, wouldn’t that cause problems in the body?”
“You’re misunderstanding. The blood doesn’t remain elevated. Literally speaking, it boosts your hematopoietic function, giving you the ability to rapidly replenish your blood when it runs low.”
In a sense, the effect of producing a Blood Potion within the body itself. Any student in this Hematology class could hardly help but be tempted.
The students’ eyes gleamed with interest fixed on the injection, but Walter slowly set it down.
“However, this is still cutting-edge technology. Mass production is difficult, and we can barely extract a single dose even if we grind up a hundred Blood Slimes. The quantity is extremely limited. So I thought I’d offer the chance to receive this Hematopoietic Injection to just one student—the one with the highest achievement in this class.”
Excited chatter erupted from various corners.
At the mention of just one student, the class’s interest climbed to fever pitch.
“Shall we conduct a simple practical exercise then?”

* * *
The practical exercise was straightforward.
Cast the Palpitation Curse—a hematology-based curse—upon oneself, and while sensing the heart’s beating, practice controlling that rhythm.
“The human heart rate is not constant. It’s affected by body temperature, emotion, stress, and so on. But a first-class Blood Mage is capable of controlling even the heart’s beating exactly as they wish.”
And first place in this class went to Kamibarez, who possessed the finest blood lineage in Hematology. She demonstrated the ability to adjust her heart rate freely—fast, slow, completely at her command.
“Congratulations!”
“Lucky her.”
Merin and the other students crowded around to celebrate her achievement. Simon approached Kamibarez as well.
“Congratulations, Kami.”
“Oh, Simon! Thank you!”
Kamibarez broke into a bright smile. Simon hesitated a moment before speaking.
“Kami.”
“Yes?”
“About the injection…you’re not going to…”
Simon’s words trailed off as he studied Kamibarez’s face. Her expression, as she received congratulations from those around her, looked utterly happy.
Simon also knew, of course. Knew that he lacked grounds to tell her not to take it.
It was simply that Walter seemed suspicious to him. The feeling was wrong. To speak only of intuition felt unjust to her, a Hematology specialist for whom this opportunity mattered enormously.
“…Would you consider reconsidering?”
Even so, he barely managed to voice the words.
Kamibarez’s eyes widened.
“Yes? Why?”
“Because it’s an unverified substance, so it could be dangerous……”
“Exactly as he says. Kamibarez.”
Walter had somehow appeared behind Simon and spoken.
Simon turned with a startled expression. Did this man really enjoy materializing soundlessly from behind people just to surprise them?
“Clinical trials on humans have concluded, and the results are verified, but I’m still cautious about giving it to Ursula’s vampires just yet. Would it be all right if I waited a bit longer to observe the effects before providing it?”
“Of course, that’s fine!”
A few female students behind her broke into delighted smiles.
“That’s Professor Walter for you.”
“Such thoughtfulness!”
As the students murmured among themselves, Walter leaned toward Kamibarez and spoke in a voice only she could hear.
“Though if you truly insist on having it now, I suppose we have no choice.”
……
Kamibarez hesitated, her expression troubled, then turned to look at Simon. She glanced back at Walter before answering.
“It’s all right. I’ll have it next time.”
“Very well. I understand.”
Walter instead administered the injection to Sophie Santana, the female student with the second-best grades after Kamibarez. With the injection in her arm, Sophie demonstrated Blood Magic in front of everyone.
“Let’s see it in action. To move the hematopoietic cells of a Blood Slime, you must synchronize your heartbeat to a special frequency. You create a pulse matching the Blood Slime itself, making the conditions inside your body identical.”
Having just learned how to regulate her heartbeat, Sophie executed it with practiced ease.
“Now, try using Blood Magic.”
“Yes, Professor.”
She pressed her palms together and closed her eyes.
Blood Frenzy.
Whoooosh!
A fountain of blood began surging endlessly from the Magic Circle in her palms.
She genuinely gasped in surprise.
“P-Professor! I’ve never produced this much before!”
The other students stared wide-eyed at the seemingly boundless rush of blood magic.
“It really does work?”
“Wow……”
Walter smiled gently and nodded his head.
“Well done. It’s a success.”
Sophie withdrew the Dark Magic.
“Still, don’t strain yourself using it excessively. The hematopoietic cells from the Blood Slime will need time to adapt to your new body.”
“Yes! Thank you so much!”
Sophie bowed repeatedly, her face radiant with joy. The students’ envious gazes fixed upon her.
Kamibarez was among them. She clapped and offered genuine congratulations, yet it was clear she too wished she had received the injection.
‘……Kamibarez.’
Simon, watching her, felt his thoughts grow turbulent.

* * *
After Hematology class ended, Simon returned to the Boys’ Dormitory early.
Room 409 was quiet as always. Richard had gone down to Rochester, and Kassan slept beneath his blanket as he always did.
?
A crow was pecking at the window, peering about as though asking to be let in.
When Simon opened the window, the crow approached and perched on his shoulder.
!
A letter was tied around the bird’s leg.
Recipient: Simon Polensia
Upon spotting his name, Simon hastily untied the letter from the crow’s leg. The moment one leg was free, the bird turned without looking back and flew out through the open window.
‘I’ve never received a letter this way before.’
Normally, mail was delivered first to the dormitory office, then distributed to students.
Simon immediately checked the sender’s name. It read ‘Wim Muller’—a name he’d never seen before.
‘Who could that be?’
In any case, the recipient was definitely ‘Simon Polensia,’ so he sat at his desk, broke the seal on the envelope, and carefully unfolded the letter.
“Ah!”
A name he hadn’t heard in a very long time appeared.
How have you been? I am Metin.
Simon let out a small exclamation of recognition. His shoulders trembled with how welcome the sight was.
‘Metin!’
When Simon and Rette crossed over into the Sacred Federation, Metin was the Heretic Inquisitor who discovered Simon was a Necromancer and pursued him relentlessly.
Later, they boarded the Sacred Express together, came under attack by the Blood Heavenly Cult, and after Simon saved Metin’s life and rescued the train’s passengers, Metin’s view of Simon transformed entirely.
You are a Necromancer, yet you risked your life for these people and fought. In the end, you saved hundreds of lives. We inquisitors were worthless in comparison. I admit it. We couldn’t match even one Necromancer. I’m giving up my interrogation of you.
Even now, Metin’s voice from that moment echoed clearly in Simon’s mind.
Simon’s mood brightened, and he quickly read the next part.

I’d sent a letter to Rette asking her to investigate the evidence I’d obtained from the train, and it seemed she’d promptly connected me with Metin.

Simon pulled out the documents from the back of the letter. They were the classified files he’d acquired after defeating the archbishop of the Blood Heavenly Cult aboard the Sacred Locomotive.
Even as copies, if it became known that Metin had sent this information to a Necromancer of the Dark Alliance, his life would be in danger. Grateful for the risk he’d taken, Simon examined the documents carefully.
Directives from the Blood Heavenly Cult.
All manner of sinister schemes designed to sow chaos in the world were inscribed within. Simon’s expression hardened as he read through the orders.
‘…….’
One detail caught his eye—the signature on the directives. Every single order bore the same person’s signature.
‘Surely not……!’
At last, Simon understood the source of his unease. He sprang from his seat and rushed toward the Library, letter in hand.
‘Ancient Language, Ancient Language…….’
The moment he arrived at the Library, he seized a stack of thick volumes on Ancient Language from the shelves and opened them frantically.
They contained long-obsolete tongues from ages past. Simon had grown proficient in such archaic languages through his studies of etiquette with Richard—the sort of old speech that nobility favored—but the language used in this signature couldn’t be deciphered at a glance. Still, the grammatical structure felt familiar enough that he grasped the pattern immediately.
Simon began to decipher the signature by consulting the books.
‘Ah.’
A long breath escaped Simon’s lips.
At last, all the vague unease that had plagued him dissolved away, replaced by perfect clarity.
The signature on the directive, written in Ancient Language, read as follows:
「Archbishop of the Blood Heavenly Cult, Judah.」