Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 410

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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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The Summoning Genius of the Necromancer School — Episode 410
Israphil sat with her eyes closed, a serene smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
Perhaps it was because of their unexpected reunion—Simon set aside all other questions, his heart full of nothing but joy.
As Simon mulled over how to greet her, he straightened his posture slightly.
“Gratula Mi Kibilis. It has been far too long, Israphil.”
A greeting customary among Saints and high-ranking Priests. Though here in the Dark Alliance, there was no real need for such formality.
“Ah.”
Israphil seemed genuinely moved.
Simple courtesy and respect for the other person could earn considerable favor.
She rose from her seat with a radiant smile, like flowers in full bloom, and opened her arms wide.
“Come here, Simon!”
“Israphil!”
The two embraced in reunion, holding each other tightly. In the Sacred Federation, even touching the body of a Saint was considered a grave blasphemy, but Israphil answered their boldness with boldness of her own.
She was quite tall. Though Simon was still growing, she towered over him. Israphil gently brushed through his hair.
“Simon!”
Simon’s mother, Anna, who had always been in the kitchen, poked her head out.
The two embraced as well. Sweet apple pie scent wafted from her apron.
“You must be starving, aren’t you? Sit down, dear. I’ve prepared an extra hearty dinner tonight!”
“Yes, Mother!”
Simon had missed home cooking more than anything.
The four of them sat together around the table, enjoying their meal while chatting warmly.
As Simon savored Anna’s tomato omelet—something he hadn’t tasted in so long and could find nowhere else—he felt a deep, profound happiness wash over him.
Israphil and Anna chattered and laughed together, while Richard hesitated to join the conversation, watching Israphil’s expression carefully.
It seemed the two women were not entirely comfortable with each other.
“But how did you manage to come all the way here, Israphil?”
Simon asked quietly.
Though they sat peacefully around the table, from Kizen headquarters’ perspective, this scene represented an unprecedented crisis of the highest magnitude.
The Saint of Efnel herself had penetrated deep into Alliance territory. It would not have been strange for all the crows across the nation to rush in with foam at their mouths.
“I employed a rather troublesome measure,” she said.
As she spoke, she touched the black choker necklace around her neck.
“It’s an artifact that seals the power of a Saint. While wearing it, I can remain hidden from the Dark Alliance’s detection.”
“But—but wouldn’t sealing your power be terribly dangerous? This is enemy territory…”
“It’s all right.”
She brushed her slender arms across the backs of Anna and Simon.
“My beloved sister and nephew will protect me. Won’t you?”
“Of—of course!”
Simon spoke with conviction, clenching his fist. Anna smiled warmly.
Yet of the three present, Richard was by far the strongest—and Israphil conveniently left him out of the equation.
Richard laughed it off with practiced ease, accepting this natural treatment as entirely natural. He watched her carefully, taking care with his every move.
‘Both Rette and Israphil don’t seem particularly fond of Father,’ Simon thought.
Though Israphil was nowhere near as openly hostile as Rette had been. In fact, Israphil occasionally joked with Richard, and each time Simon and Anna would laugh heartily in response.
Both of them hoped that Israphil and Richard might grow closer over time.
The meal came to an end.
“It was worth braving danger to come to the Dark Alliance for. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this warmth, this sense of family,” Israphil said.
She wiped her mouth elegantly as she spoke.
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes, sister.”
Israphil’s eyes, always closed until now, slowly opened, revealing eyes dark as an abyss.
“So much so that I’d want to kidnap you and take you to the Federation to cook for me every day.”
“Ohohoho! You’re such a flirt~”
From Anna’s perspective, it was high praise, and she blushed with embarrassment. Richard, meanwhile, was sweating profusely, his gaze averted.
“I was only joking,” Israphil said.
She returned to her usual closed-eyed expression and cast a knowing smile toward Simon.
“Then, brother-in-law.”
Richard cleared his throat loudly and resumed his dignified bearing.
“Might this be a good time to present your proposal to Simon?”
“Indeed it is.”
Israphil turned her body to face Simon directly. At her composed posture, Simon tensed as well, straightening himself.
“Israphil, what sort of proposal…?”
“Simon, I have a commission I would like to ask of you.”
Simon’s eyes widened in surprise. A commission from the Saint herself? And directed at him?
Israphil lifted her head, her eyes still closed.
“I sense a great evil emanating from the north of the continent. The aura becomes far more distinct when one approaches the Sacred Federation.”
There exists a region in the northern reaches of the Sacred Federation called Kinber Region, where snow falls year-round. Israphil explained that the aura of this great evil was growing steadily stronger in that place.
“I have personally attempted to exorcise this evil, but I failed. The seal binding it was far too formidable.”
Israphil’s closed eyes turned toward Simon.
“And to break that seal, both Holiness and the Dark Element were required together.”
“……I see.”
“Among the Necromancers I know, there is only one person capable of concealing their identity, eluding the Heresy Inquisitors, and moving freely throughout the Sacred Federation.”
For Israphil to say such things—
It was the kind of talk that made his shoulders tense.
“This evil will eventually transcend the Sacred Federation and threaten the Dark Alliance—indeed, the entire continent. Simon, I implore you: please accept my commission. I would be grateful if you could stop this evil before the situation grows any worse.”
Simon rubbed his chin, his expression turning grave.
“Well, this ‘evil’ of yours is rather abstract.”
“You’ll understand immediately once you arrive at the site. I shall assign an excellent guide to you.”
‘Hmm.’
In truth, it was not an unfavorable proposal from Simon’s perspective.
First, spending the holiday break in the Sacred Federation would allow him to escape Magnus’s pursuit and threats entirely. He’d already planned to leave Leshill anyway after a few days of rest at home.
Second, Simon had spent most of his time in Kizen. The Sacred Federation offered an excellent opportunity to train in White Magic and Holiness.
Both the Dark Element and Holiness needed to grow stronger for his signature technique, Chaos, to reach greater heights.
And third, he owed a debt to Israphil—his mother Anna’s life. This was a debt that must be repaid no matter what.
“All right.”
After deliberating, Simon nodded.
“You came to the Dark Alliance risking your life to ask this of me. I can’t pretend I didn’t hear it. I’ll take the commission.”
Israphil’s expression shifted to one of mild surprise, and she covered her mouth gently.
“I haven’t even mentioned the reward yet.”
“Oh? Ah, ha ha! Right, that’s true!”
Oddly, this reaction seemed to increase Israphil’s favor even further. Her gaze shifted toward Richard.
“Brother-in-law.”
“Yes, sister-in-law.”
She smiled softly.
“……I truly cannot deny that I hold you in high regard.”
Richard laughed easily, waving off her words as if it were obvious, but he was giving Simon a vigorous thumbs-up.
“Simon, Rette tells me you have talent in the Holy Beast Technique?”
Simon scratched his ear sheepishly.
“I’m not sure if I truly have talent, but Holy Beast Technique is what I like the most.”
“If you accept this task, I will offer you a reward of ten thousand gold. In addition, I shall present you with a supreme-grade Holy Beast-Exclusive Artifact—something that could never be obtained from the Dark Alliance.”
Ten thousand gold!!
And a Holy Beast-Exclusive Artifact obtainable only from the Sacred Federation!
This was something he absolutely had to do. Simon leaped from his seat.
“I will do my utmost!”

* * *
The day deepened as night fell.
-Meow! Meow!
-Meow!
When Israphil happened to ask what kind of Holy Beasts Simon possessed, he retrieved Whitey and Blackie from his Holy Subspace to show her.
“How adorable!”
A former miraculous Saint and a current Saint of Divine Seas were watching the kittens coo in their pajamas.
Anna dangled an ornament on a string, swinging it back and forth, and the kittens lifted their tiny paws with hunting instincts on display. The sound of their chirping cries echoed repeatedly through the room.
Simon, returning after finishing the dishes, smiled faintly at the sight.
‘So this is what Father meant when he said Mother had returned to her girlhood.’
Anna and Israphil had both graduated from Efnel, making them closer than anyone.
Meanwhile, Richard was cleaning up cat hair that had fallen to the floor. He sighed heavily.
“There’s so much fur flying around. Once your mother and sister are done playing with them, put them back in the Holy Subspace right away.”
“Father, won’t you come see them?”
“I have no interest in any animal besides humans.”
The very next morning after saying that.
Richard, sprawled on the floor drawing the kittens’ attention with toys, made eye contact with Simon, who had come downstairs for water.
“…….”
“…….”
-Meow!
The kittens turned away from Richard and bounded toward Simon.

* * *
Two days later.
Simon set out for the Sacred Federation with Israphil.
An Ultra-Long-Distance Teleportation Circle had been prepared, so Simon expected to whoosh across and open his eyes already arrived at the Sacred Federation.
Rattle-clatter.
Reality proved far different from expectation.
“…….”
He could hear the rumble of cart wheels, the chatter of merchants.
In a narrow, dark, swaying wooden crate, Simon and Israphil stood pressed together in an impossibly cramped space, facing each other.
‘I’ve been in this situation before!’
Sweat trickled down the back of Simon’s head.
Worse, to endure the journey they’d had to tangle their legs together. One wrong move and, in the worst case, their knees might brush against each other’s inner thighs.
Each time the cart wheels jolted over a stone, Simon’s heart lurched with it.
And even in this situation, Israphil’s beauty remained radiant. Her pressed-close body exhaled the subtle salt-air fragrance of a distant seaside resort.
Simon, who had been deliberately looking elsewhere, opened his eyes.
Israphil was gazing directly at him. When she broke into a gentle smile, Simon flushed crimson and quickly turned his head away—and heard her soft, amused laughter.
“……I, Israphil……”
“Yes~”
“You’re a Saint. Do we really have to cross the border this way?”
Smuggling oneself across in a merchant’s cargo crate. Simon had done it several times before, but it was always exhausting and miserable.
She laughed softly.
“We can’t let the Sacred Federation side know either.”
“…….”
“When I came, I entered the same way—packed into a cargo cart just like this.”
A Saint, crammed into a cargo crate and transported.
If one of the merchants hauling this cart happened to be a devotee of the Deba Faith, the guilt and shame might drive them to take their own life.
“We should be passing through the Gate of Holiness soon.”
The Gate of Holiness at the border of the Sacred Federation.
A checkpoint that filters out profane objects and lurking Necromancers.
Israphil reached out her arms.
“I’ll protect us. My dear.”
Then she pulled Simon into a tight embrace.
A subtle Holiness radiated from her body and enveloped Simon’s frame. His face flooded with blood so intensely he thought he might die of embarrassment.
“Oh.”
Then came Israphil’s soft voice.
“I should hold you less tightly than this. Strictly speaking, not a single drop of blood flows between you and me.”
“!!!”
As Simon’s face burned scarlet, he felt them pass through the Gate of Holiness.
Only then did Israphil release him and speak.
“A jest, dear one.”
If she joked like this twice more, he’d genuinely expire.
Simon wore the blank expression of a soul that had departed his body, while Israphil laughed like a playful adult, chuckling softly to herself.
“Um…… Israphil……”
Simon, sensing that remaining silent would only deepen the awkwardness, forced himself to speak.
“About that guide you mentioned coming with us—who is it?”
Israphil’s lips curved into a knowing smile.
“Curious, are we?”

* * *
“Ah, achoo!”
A drowsy girl sneezed. The servant brushing her white hair laughed.
“What is it, Saint Rette?”
The girl blinked sheepishly.
“……Oh, well. I’m not sure. I think I might be catching a cold.”
The servant laughed with delight.
“How could a Saint catch a cold? You’re joking!”

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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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