Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 422

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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 422
Fourth day of life in Eskale Village.
Even in Eskale, they had some concept of weekends—one day a week to step away from teaching duties and rest at ease.
Of course, none of this applied to Simon.
“Hgh!”
Crack!
With his sleeves rolled up high, Simon let out a shout, and the rotted tree root that had been lodged deep in the ground tore free from the soil.
The watching adults gasped in admiration.
“Master Simon, you’re incredibly strong!”
“A Priest truly is different!”
Simon groaned and collapsed onto the ground beside him. Rocks and rotten wood—all yanked free by his labor—lay scattered about in chaotic heaps.
‘I’m… dying here.’
His forearms screamed in protest, and his lower back throbbed with dull pain.
He was wiping sweat from his brow with a towel when the Farmer—a man he’d grown closer to over these days—held out a bowl filled with cold water.
“Drink, drink.”
“Thank you!”
“You’re truly remarkable! Work that would take two weeks you’ve finished in a single day, all by yourself!”
“I’ve done plenty of it back home.”
The moment Simon got his hands on the bowl, he brought it straight to his mouth.
He gulped greedily, water dribbling down his chin, but he was past caring about such trifles.
“A rare kind of soundness in a young man these days.”
“Leave the cleanup to us!”
The other adults moved off to clear away the debris.
“I’m truly grateful.”
The Farmer settled onto a stump as he spoke.
“Teaching the children keeps you busy enough. For you to volunteer for hard labor like this—well, it means a lot.”
“I’m part of this village for now, so it’s only natural I help out.”
“Ha! You know how to win over your elders, don’t you?”
Of course, there was a reason Simon had sought out this grueling work—information gathering.
As he drank the cold water, Simon was calculating the right moment to ask his questions.
‘Still… I can’t get used to it.’
Beyond the transparent barrier, where he stood sweating, a blizzard still raged fiercely outside.
He had to admit the barrier was remarkably well-constructed.
“Sir.”
“Hmm?”
“I’ve been here a few days now, and a question’s been bothering me.”
“Oh! Go on, ask away! I’ll explain whatever you need!”
This was exactly why Simon had endured four days of hard labor—to earn this kind of eager cooperation.
Simon lifted his arm and pointed beyond the barrier.
“That bitter cold outside.”
“Mm?”
“It’s gotten worse and worse—now it’s even buried the lower village, Kula. Do you know why it’s happened?”
……
The Farmer’s easy smile stiffened slightly.
“Why do you want to know about that?”
Ah.
Had he pushed too hard, too soon? His trust here was still incomplete, and that was a sensitive question. Cold sweat beaded on the back of his neck, but he recovered quickly with a cover story.
“N-no, nothing like that! I just thought—if the cold lets up, you won’t need to keep expanding the barrier bit by bit to reclaim frozen land. I was wondering why this bitter winter lasts so long.”
……
The Farmer closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again.
“Because the Snow Woman grew angry.”
There it was again.
That ‘Snow Woman’—that being.
“Does this Snow Woman… really exist? I apologize if that’s a foolish question.”
“Ah, I understand. It’s a hard story to believe from an outsider’s perspective. Though truth be told, I was once an outsider myself.”
He told Simon how, in his younger days, he’d visited the city and fallen head over heels for a Mizhenashi woman, and how he’d followed her all the way here.
“And then my wife, well…!”
It was someone else’s family business, something Simon had no reason to know—yet he nodded enthusiastically along, playing the engaged listener.
“…And that’s how things turned out! In any case, to answer your question—yes, the Snow Woman is real. Once you’ve lived in this village a while, you can’t help but believe it.”
“What do you…”
According to the Farmer, the village held one great festival a year in honor of the Snow Woman.
They would lay out a feast in the Village Assembly Hall, close all the doors except the back one, and wait.
“After a while! You’d hear footsteps from beyond the door, and then this sound of her wolfing down the food!”
Simon swallowed hard at the Farmer’s vivid account.
“And once she’d finished eating, the footsteps would fade away! I couldn’t believe it, so I secretly cracked open a window to peek, and would you believe it!”
The Farmer’s face twisted into an eerie smile as he waggled his fingers.
“There was a woman in white mourning clothes, wild tangled gray hair, her eyes and lips blood-red, running barefoot away! And then she turned her head sharply—right toward me!—and my whole body went ice-cold! That’s right. There was no way that was anything human!”
The mysterious woman Simon had seen matched this description perfectly. His shoulders trembled faintly.
“Heh heh! Scared? Should we stop here?”
“N-no!”
He couldn’t very well admit he was frightened when Necromancy was supposedly his trade.
“That’s not even the half of it! There were times when bitter cold would pound down for months on end, but on the very day we make an offering to the Snow Woman in Mizhenashi, the sky would clear up perfectly! Strange, isn’t it?”
Simon leaned forward.
“What exactly is this ‘offering’ you give to the Snow Woman?”
The Farmer’s face went pale, and he clapped a hand over his mouth in alarm. Then he jerked his head around, scanning the surroundings frantically.
“D-did I say ‘offering’?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what you said.”
“I-I must have misspoke! Ha ha! S-shall we get back to w-work? Come on now!”
Simon watched silently as the man trembled and began glancing around like someone possessed.

* * *
“Teacher! Teacher Rette!”
“Hurry!”
The children had come to Rette’s house on what should have been her one precious day off each week.
‘I thought I’d finally get some rest, and here they are on the weekend.’
Rette felt tears welling up inside.
Three children surrounded her on the bed, begging her to read them a fairy tale.
‘Kids! I’m a person too!’
She wanted to shout it from the rooftops, but instead Rette smiled brightly with professional composure.
“Then shall we venture into the world of fairy tales?”
“Yes~”
“Yay!”
Rette opened the well-worn fairy tale book. It had been read so many times that it was falling apart, the binding barely holding the pages together.
Since the children clearly treasured the book, Rette turned the pages carefully.
“Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful young girl.”
Her soft, soothing voice filled the room. The children lay comfortably against their pillows, absorbed in the story.
“The girl was born in the Snow-Covered Mountain. But the mountain was so cold that the girl and the villagers traveled down to warm lands in the south. There they built homes and cultivated fields, living happily.”
Rette turned the page, which was nearly torn away.
“Then one day, the girl discovered shipwrecked sailors lying on the Beach! She brought them to the village and cared for them tenderly.”
“Fortunately, they awoke. They were adventurers! These sturdy and skilled adventurers built houses for the girl and the villagers. They taught them how to farm well, how to start fires easily. The villagers and adventurers spent joyful times together.”
Rette smiled as she turned the page.
It was a simple story, but warmly charming. The children wiggled contentedly under their blankets.
“But then came a parting. The adventurers had repaired their ship and needed to return to the Kingdom. They comforted the weeping girl, boarded the vessel, and waved their hands, swearing an oath. They would return here someday.”
Sob.
Sniff.
The children’s whimpers echoed from different corners.
Rette smiled, thinking how innocent childish hearts truly were, and turned the next page.
“Much time passed after the adventurers left. The girl waited on the Beach each day for their return. And wonder of wonders! The adventurers truly came back! And they brought so many people with them. The vast Sea was filled with their ships!”
“The adventurers pleaded with the girl and villagers: Our Kingdom is ravaged by bandits. Please, let us settle here. The villagers welcomed the Kingdom people with open arms.”
Rustle.
The moment Rette turned the next page, she hesitated slightly.
The illustrations in the fairy tale book had grown noticeably darker—unsettling for children. The handwriting beneath had also changed, its strokes heavy and forceful.
“The adventurers and Kingdom people said: Just as we built houses before, this time we shall build a great city for you.”
“They burned the forests where animal friends lived and made roads. They dug up the glittering sandy Beach to make harbors, and they cut down the ancient guardian tree that the villagers treasured, using it for furniture.”
“No!”
“Stop!”
The children’s protests rang out.
“The girl and the villagers asked them to stop, but the adventurers and Kingdom people said only: Trust us. If you trust and wait, a better village will be built. That is all they said.”
“More and more Kingdom people kept coming from the Sea. As their numbers grew, the Kingdom people began dividing up the land. This is mine, that is yours. The girl and villagers were bewildered and said: Nature belongs to all of us; no one can possess it. But the adventurers and Kingdom people did not listen. And so, when the next morning arrived.”
Flap.
Rette’s voice grew quiet.
“There was nowhere for the girl and the villagers to live.”
The children began to cry. Some of them struck the bed with small, angry fists.
“The girl cast out from the village and the villagers returned to the cold mountain once more. There, they all made a vow: one day, they would drive out the adventurers and the Kingdom’s people, and descend again to that warm land.”
“But betrayed by the adventurers and the Kingdom’s people, the girl was devastated and weakened. She could not climb the mountain and froze to death. The villagers, burning with rage and a thirst for vengeance, buried the girl in the snow.”
Rette’s trembling hand finally turned the last page.
A sudden gasp caught in her throat.
The moment she saw the final illustration, she nearly cried out.
Faded gray hair, eyes like blood, and a face twisted with hatred and fury.
It was so unnervingly realistic that she doubted it was truly a drawing at all.
Beneath this image, the story of the final page consisted of but a single line.
“And the girl arose.”

* * *
As evening fell, Simon and Rette reunited at the lodging.
The children had all been called away by their parents.
“Learn anything useful?”
Rette snapped her fingers, activating a Soundproofing Magic Circle, and asked.
“Yeah. Quite a bit, actually.”
“Same here. Let’s start by sharing what we know.”
Simon recounted the Farmer’s story about the Snow Woman and the matter of sacrifices, along with various other details he’d pieced together.
Rette shared the contents of the fairy tale she’d read with the children, and information she’d gleaned from gossiping with Petria.
“Well, things are starting to come into focus.”
Rette spoke while gazing out the window.
“You’ve got a sense of it?”
“Yes.”
Rette nodded gravely.
“Now we uncover the truth about this vile village.”

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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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