Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 392

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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, Episode 392
“…….”
Silaji’s eyes opened.
A barren desert stretched before her—nothing but sand in every direction.
“Ah, I see.”
Silaji smiled.
“A dungeon created through an Anomaly.”
And standing some distance away was Simon.
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Your expression tells me you haven’t heard about this technique before.”
“A professor can’t possibly know every student’s abilities completely.”
[No no no! What do I do! What do I do!]
Both of their gazes lifted skyward.
A vast pair of eyes hovered in the azure sky, gazing down upon the earth below.
[I’ve gone and used the Third Authority again! What’s to be done! When the barrier ends, the Life Vessel is really going to shatter this time!]
“Calm yourself, Herseba.”
Simon spoke to her in a gentle voice.
“I’ll find a way through this.”
He spoke with confidence, but truthfully, Simon’s own anxiety ran deep.
His opponent was Professor Kizen. Shatel, the dungeon master he’d first summoned into combat, had been formidable—but this was a different caliber of opponent entirely.
‘Can I win before Herseba’s dungeon collapses?’
“To brighten the mood, allow me to share an interesting fact.”
Though he’d entered the heart of the enemy’s domain, Silaji appeared remarkably at ease.
“Just before being drawn into this space, the Blood Stone Castle spell reached completion. The Dark Element I deployed never returned to me—so I’m certain. That is, once this dungeon breaks and we emerge—”
A pleased grin spread across his face.
“You’ll be dead, Simon Polentia.”
“Unnecessary information.”
Simon raised both arms before him.
Rumble-rumble-rumble-rumble-rumble-rumble-rumble-rumble!
Across a vast expanse of desert, the magnificent structures of the Golden City rose simultaneously.
“Because I’ll eliminate you first.”
“Bold. I’ve never disliked the reckless fervor of youth.”
Boom!
Crash!
Temples, obelisks, gardens, plazas, and amphitheaters.
Doors to the myriad structures erupting from the earth flew open, and the city’s inhabitants poured forth.
-Shriek-shriek-shriek-shriek!
-Shriek-shriek-shriek!
Thousands upon thousands of mummies, wrapped in burial cloth, stumbled and staggered into view.
“Ancient Undead? Indeed.”
Silaji stroked his chin thoughtfully, then prepared his Dark Magic.
Blood droplets separated from his body, forming magical circles of blood.
The number grew—thirty, sixty, and now climbing toward a hundred. These countless circles, large and small, began exchanging data, interlocking like gears as they prepared something vast and terrible.
[Be careful, boy!]
Pier, too, sensed the threat and issued a warning. Simon nodded and gave his command.
“Advance!”
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Thousands of mummies let out guttural cries and surged forward. Silaji watched calmly, then began overlapping and gathering the magical circles suspended in the void.
It was no longer something that could simply be called a magical circle—it had become a colossal city of runes.
“I’ll show you.”
All at once, every magical circle ignited with power.
“What hierarchy truly means.”
Thud. Crack.
Then something unthinkable occurred. From the center of the magical circles, the rune language began to weep tears of blood.
What began as single drops became a river of blood, spreading in countless tributaries across the expanse—like the veins of a living body.
“!”
Beneath the mummies’ feet, beneath Simon’s feet, those blood-veins spread. They covered the entire desert.
At last, having completed his preparations, Silaji unleashed his Dark Magic.
Blood Spring, Harry Hellens
The desert heaved upward.
In the very heart of the Golden City, where mummies poured forth without end, the ground suddenly convulsed and transformed into the crater of a towering mountain range.
‘Wait—I’ve seen this before, when we first entered the dungeon!’
[Flee, boy!]
Rumble-rumble-rumble-rumble!
And the volcano erupted.
But its contents were neither magma nor pyroclastic flow.
‘Blood……!’
It was blood—the substance of Blood Flow Magic.
A crimson liquid so vivid it burned the eyes shot skyward in a geyser. The bloody magma that drenched the heavens decomposed into countless droplets suspended in air.
They descended upon the Golden City, and in an instant the buildings crumbled under the deluge. The mummies caught in the blast radius vanished without a trace.
“Throughout history, advanced civilizations have always fallen to calamities of terrible nature.”
Silaji spoke.
“Now taste the power of such devastation, made manifest through Blood Flow Magic.”
Moments later, craters erupted in every direction, spraying droplets of blood. The way they gushed forth resembled a wounded living thing bleeding out.
Mummies poured from the doorways only to be caught in the blood explosions and torn down. The stench of blood stung the nostrils.
Slash!
Simon swung his greatsword directly at one of the craters, cleaving it, but there were far too many.
‘At this rate we’ll be annihilated!’
He had to strike at the sorcerer first—the source of this calamity.
Simon gathered the mummified cavalry riders directly under his command and sent them charging at Silaji.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
Hoofbeats thundered across the earth. Yet with a single gesture from Silaji, the ground ahead of them heaved upward, and another blood volcano erupted.
“Tch!”
Simon leaped from his horse just in time. Blood fell like rain, and the explosion that followed annihilated the mummies entirely.
“Do you know how many cities and nations I have brought to ruin across my lifetime?”
Silaji’s eyes blazed.
“The time I have accumulated is different…….”
Dribble-dribble!
Blood streamed from the corner of Silaji’s mouth.
He grimaced and clutched at his left chest, where his heart lay. Blood vessels had burst in his eyes, and nosebleeds poured freely.
‘There it is again.’
A bitter smile crossed his face as he looked down at his own chest.
Silaji’s congenital limitation.
His beginning and his end.
It was the heart—ruined by his father.
Silaji had grown stronger through endless efforts to repair this heart, founded the Blood Heavenly Cult, and earned recognition as one of the realm’s greatest Blood Flow practitioners.
Yet he could not heal his own heart. No matter what form he took, he could not escape the pain that radiated from it.
‘I must hurry. Perform the ritual, offer up the sacrifices, and summon the Apostle.’
All preparations were complete.
The talented and promising 1st-year students had all been converted into sacrificial offerings, and the Dungeon Master had been subdued.
He had sealed the dungeon entrance with a Blood Ring.
Now he only needed to ascend to the surface and trigger the Black Magic.
The Apostle—the Blood Heavenly Cult’s grand project—would soon descend upon the world.
The Collaborator who had always funded Silaji intended to use this formidable being to plunge the continent into chaos, but on this matter alone did Silaji’s vision diverge from his benefactor’s.
‘I will consume the Apostle.’
Through consumption, he would take the Apostle’s body for his own.
The Apostle possessed twenty hearts.
One defective heart would be meaningless among them.
Once he consumed the Apostle and became the Apostle himself, he would finally transcend the limitation of a single flawed heart, and the entire world would fall into his grasp.
Cough! Cough!
Blood spilling from his lips, he opened his palm.
His hand was slick with blood. Soon, he thought, this relentless agony would end at last.
“Herseba!”
Simon plunged both hands deep into the sand.
“Forgive me—but I need more!”
With a mighty heave, a massive structure resembling a stable rose up before them. From within, bandage-wrapped mummified cavalry riders poured forth in a torrent.
“Numbers have always been a nuisance.”
Silaji wiped away the blood trickling down his chin and drew his arm back.
“Do you know the most fundamental reason I could keep my true identity hidden from Kizen headquarters?”
Rumble-rumble-rumble-rumble-rumble-rumble!
Simon’s eyes flew wide open in shock.
Behind him, a crimson portal of some kind tore open. Through it, countless people began filing forward in steady streams.
“It’s because we possess a secret technique known only to the Blood Heavenly Cult—unknown to any necromancer alive.”
Simon recoiled in horror.
‘Impossible! They’ve entered Herseba’s dungeon directly?’
This was neither a subspace nor a teleportation circle.
An unknown spatial magic.
The number of reinforcements arriving easily exceeded a thousand.
Worse still, walking alongside the cultists was a crimson-skinned zombie that Simon knew all too well.
‘Blood zombies!’
Fury flickered across Simon’s gaze.
The undead he’d fought to the death aboard the Sacred Express Train—most of them had been created from kidnapped citizens of the Sacred Federation. Which meant their base material was human.
Beyond the blood zombies themselves, even the cultists’ eyes weren’t normal. They’d managed to complete the blood cores and avoided full zombification, but the side effects were evident—their eyes held no focus, their bodies withered and twisted.
[A fate worse than death.]
Even Pier, ancient undead though he was, uttered such a sentiment.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Countless cultists of the Blood Heavenly Cult, along with blood zombies, flooded across one side of the desert.
And among them, three figures stood out with unmistakable presence.
“You called for us, High Priestess?”
A man dragging a pair of blood-soaked crosses across the ground behind him.
“Hehehehe! Are we finally going to see an apostle?”
A woman covered in piercings, her tongue thrust out obscenely, her expression utterly bizarre.
“Of course it’s like this. This place.”
A man with his hair in a ponytail, muttering to himself with a bored expression.
All three were bishops of the Blood Heavenly Cult—fighters on par with or exceeding Aloken, the boss they’d battled aboard the Sacred Express Train.
“Simon, take in this moment fully. Comprehend it. Despair. Because you are now—”
Silaji spread both arms, her smile reeking of blood.
“facing the entire Blood Heavenly Cult.”
Roooaaarrrrrrr!
The fanatics of the Blood Heavenly Cult screamed their approval until their throats nearly burst.
Screeeech!
Mummies, stirred to frenzy by the sound, came charging, only to be torn to shreds by the three bishops who each wielded different blood flow magic before descending before Silaji.
“High Priestess. All we need do is kill the child, yes?”
The bishop holding the pair of crosses turned to Silaji and spoke. She nodded.
“That’s right.”
The moment her command fell, killing intent radiated from the three figures’ bodies.
Simon’s expression hardened.
Crack!
Crackle-crackle!
‘Ah.’
As if to add insult to injury, Herseba’s World of Sand began fracturing in multiple places. She too had reached her limit.
If the World of Sand unraveled now, he wouldn’t merely contend with the dark magic Silaji had set in place—he’d face thousands of cultists.
……
A hopeless situation.
And yet.
Simon felt laughter bubbling up inside him.
‘Despair, is it?’
Was this truly a desperate situation?
No.
Not yet.
His mind still turned, his brain still circled, searching for a way to win.
As Simon lifted his head, his eyes blazed with sudden clarity.
“The little one’s got quite the murderous glint in those eyes.”
The ponytailed bishop flinched, remarking on it. The female bishop tapped his arm.
“Don’t let your guard down. Young as he looks, the High Priestess wouldn’t have requested reinforcements if he were nothing.”
Simon lowered the hand pressed against his forehead and drew in a long, deliberate breath.
A way to win.
A method of victory.
“Herseba.”
[Kid! Gaaahhh! I can’t hold on much longer!]
“There’s one way to do it.”
Simon rolled up his sleeve and showed the bracelet on his wrist. After channeling the Dark Element through it and tapping lightly with his fingertip, a subspace opened.
Herseba’s subspace—created by the Spatial Artisan Gelen Eclipse.
Inside that narrow pocket lay the Lich’s true form, her ribs cradling a Life Vessel that pulsed in steady rhythm.
Simon reached toward it.
[Boy! Surely you don’t mean to—!]
Pier sensed Simon’s intention and recoiled in horror.
[That’s impossible! A Life Vessel is entirely different from a Core!]
“Right now, this is the only way.”
Simon’s face was rigid, but confidence gleamed at the corners of his mouth.
“I’ll make it work. I have to.”
The truth was, if he touched this, he could never use Herseba in Kizen or the world beyond again.
He still remembered vividly how much suffering had gone into her creation.
But.
‘Too many lives are on the line right now.’
The faces of Merin and the others—twisted into sacrificial conversion—flashed before his eyes.
Shaking off his hesitation, Simon placed his hand on Herseba’s Life Vessel and poured the Dark Element into it.
Shrieeeeek!
Simon’s darkness began to interfere with Herseba’s Life Vessel.
[Ugh!]
Herseba cried out in agony. The fractures she’d been maintaining in the dungeon accelerated violently.
“Hehehehe! What are you doing?”
“Breaking this space for us? Even better.”
The Female Bishops and Blood Heavenly Cult disciples snickered.
Crackle!
Crackle-crackle-crackle!
Simon’s darkness and Herseba’s darkness collided and tangled ferociously.
‘Breaking it on their own? Not a chance.’
Legionization.
Simon was transforming Herseba into a Legion-form Undead.
Of course, even Richard had never attempted to legionize a Life Vessel. It was unprecedented, and as things stood, the Life Vessel would explode.
Snap!
The first band holding the Life Vessel shattered.
Snap! Snap!
The second and third bands fractured as well. The Life Vessel, now held only by its core layer, trembled precariously.
“Herseba!”
Simon’s eyes blazed with intensity.
“I’m your creator! I will never lose you!”
[You insane fool! Ugh! How can you—! Arghhhhgh!]
“Trust me!”
Simon’s eyes snapped wide, blood streaming from his nose as he spoke. The Abyss Backlash was flooding through him.
“Trust me and open your heart!”
His mind burned white-hot, electricity crackling through his skull.
He could do this.
He could see it through.
The moment he pooled all his consciousness into a single point, the Bishops’ laughter faded. The Mummies and Blood Heavenly Cult disciples clashing around him—all of it sank away.
Sound vanished. Time slowed.
As time stretched, perception sharpened.
He projected darkness onto Herseba’s Life Vessel, then drew new bands around it at its center to anchor what was collapsing.
‘The first band.’
He generated a new band with the Legion’s darkness.
‘The second band.’
The second band emerged beside it, crossing in an X.
“He’s doing something!”
“Stop him!”
A Female Bishop with a cross charged forward over the Mummies toward Simon.
[Futile, human!]
Clang!
Pier, having shed his Bone Armor form, deflected the Bishop’s cross with the Blade of Destruction himself. The Bishop’s eyes went wide.
“What—what is this Undead?”
[Cackle, cackle, cackle!]
Crash!
Pier hurled the Bishop away with a follow-up strike and spun to look behind him.
[Yes, do as you please, boy!]
Pier’s mouth fell open.
[You are that man’s son, after all!]
Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom!
At last, the moment three bands forged from the Legion’s power wove themselves around Herseba’s heart.
The crumbling World of Sand transformed.
“!”
Night had fallen upon the desert.
The clear, pristine sky darkened to a deep, murky blue.
Herseba’s eyes, hovering in the sky, their once-clouded pupils now holding the same dark blue gaze as Simon’s shadow-black eyes.
Rumble, rumble, rumble, rumble, rumble, rumble, rumble, rumble, rumble, rumble!
Rumble, rumble, rumble, rumble, rumble!
The Blood Heavenly Cult adherents froze in shock. The Golden City, its ascent halted, was rising again.
“S-suddenly!”
“More mummies are coming!”
The Blood Heavenly Cult followers retreated hesitantly. Herseba’s eager voice rang out.
[Little one! Little one! What did you just do? Power is surging through me!]
“Welcome to the Legion, Herseba.”
Simon knelt on one knee, breathing hard, and let out a ragged laugh.
“You can do more, can’t you?”
[Of course!]
Simon recalled the words Magnus had spoken when they’d met to exchange Achemous as a hostage.
—Want to know something? The true way to use Ancient Undead.
The true way to use Ancient Undead.
Ever since hearing those words from Magnus, Simon had been thinking. He hadn’t yet drawn out the true power of a Legion Commander.
Right now.
‘I’m breaking through my limits!’
It was clear what he could do. Now, more deeply connected to Herseba, he could sense it.
The World of Sand’s true power.
‘Herseba’s Authority isn’t creation but the power to “summon” the mummy battalion she commands. Then…!’
Don’t set limits. Expand freely.
Herseba is the Legion, and the Legion is me.
So.
Now Herseba isn’t limited to summoning only mummies.
Screech, screech, screech, screech, screech, screech, screech, screech, screech, screech, screech, screech!
From the center, to the right.
Something was rising from the desert.
It was a great mansion.
That wasn’t all. Centered on the mansion, faded structures that evoked a phantom city rose up, and the imperishable realm of death unfurled.
[Wow! This is insane!]
The mansion’s door swung open with a bang.
Walking out was a small boy wearing a faded crown. He kept touching his own body as if he couldn’t believe it was real.
[Simon! How did you bring me here?]
Ancient Undead Prince.
And ‘Deathland’ was being reconstructed in the middle of the desert. From within the phantom city’s buildings poured forth countless zombies.
“Two o’clock! A massive zombie swarm is appearing at two o’clock!”
“At least three thousand!”
“Where are they coming from?”
At the sudden appearance of enemy forces, the Blood Heavenly Cult followers’ faces turned pale.
[I’m not sure what’s happening, but—!]
Prince raised his right hand to cover his face in a dramatic pose.
[Commander of the Legion Zombie Brigade! The hero Prince makes his entrance!]
—Shrieeeeeeeeeeek!
—Eeeeeeeeeee!
Jet-black zombies surged like a wave.
[How loud.]
At the same moment, a new presence was stirring in the opposite direction of Deathland.
The Blood Heavenly Cult devotees turned their attention elsewhere.
Screech! Screech! Screech!
Screech!
The entire region materialized as a spider’s den, cloaked entirely in webs. Upon those webs sat a woman, legs crossed, who now rose to her feet.
[Commander of the Spider Battalion, and the Legion Commander’s most devoted servant.]
She rose with a captivating smile on her face.
[I am Erzsebet.]
Thump!
Thump-thump-thump-thump!
And behind the battle formation.
Towering trees surged upward endlessly, transforming the heart of the desert into jungle.
[I was stationed at the Ruins, but have been summoned. And in the most favorable battlefield imaginable.]
Descending from the nests in the trees were harpy undead—Skull Wings.
And the man leading them.
[Commander of the Skull Wing Battalion, Achemous. I have answered your call, young master!]
Shriek! Shriek! Shriek!
Shriek! Shriek!
The Skull Wings filled the sky.
“Now then, Silaji’s specter. And the Blood Heavenly Cult.”
Simon smiled coldly as he donned Pier.
“I’ll return what I said. Look clearly at this situation, feel it in your bones, and despair. You are now facing—”
He spread both arms wide.
“—the Legion.”
An enormous roar erupted across the desert night.
The assembled dead poured forth a tremendous cry that shook the wasteland.

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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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