Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 426

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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 — Chapter 426
Rette revealed her identity as a Saint of her own volition.
Some people immediately lowered their weapons and prostrated themselves on the ground to worship Rette, while others hesitated, their eyes darting nervously about.
This happened precisely because the central authority of Efnel held little sway in this region.
“W-we can’t just withdraw like this…… no!”
A man from Escail Village raised his voice, then glanced sideways at Rette.
“We have to think of those who suffered at the hands of those wretched Kula bastards……!”
“We’ve suffered far more losses than they have.”
The lord of Kula stepped forward, grinding his teeth audibly.
“If I may be so bold, Your Holiness, we share that sentiment! Now that blood has been spilled, we cannot possibly retreat from here……!”
[God, these people just won’t shut up!]
A crude word tumbled from the Saint’s lips, even as her voice rang out with unmistakable Holiness.
When Rette swung her raised arm toward the sky, the stars above rippled and trembled.
Those who looked up flinched and lowered their stances.
‘Damn it. Honestly, I’d love to just sweep both sides away right now.’
The political complications of this region.
And more than that, if Rette — still a novice Saint — caused any further trouble, Efnel would certainly face its own cascade of headaches.
-Remember this, Rette. Since you’ve already wielded the power of a Saint, you must now fulfill what all expect of a Saint.
She recalled her mentor Israphil’s voice.
Rette heaved a sigh and lowered her raised arm toward the sky, then activated White Magic.

A dazzling radiance burst forth!
Blinding light erupted outward from Rette’s position. The wounds of those sprawled on the ground, bleeding freely, began to close at a staggering pace. Flesh knitted together, shattered organs and bones realigned themselves.
Those with grave injuries from blade wounds recovered the same way. Pierced flesh filled in, mangled organs and bones corrected themselves.
Each time she swept her arms, injured villagers from both settlements rose unsteadily to their feet, one after another.
[Is that enough?]
Rette planted her hands on her hips and called out.
[No one here suffered at Kula’s hands anymore! No one has shed blood!]
“…….”
The lord and the young man from Escail stared blankly. Rette spun on her heel.
[Come on inside. Let’s go into the village and talk this through.]
“B-but the Kula people tore through the village’s barrier, so the blizzard…….”
Snap!
The sound of Rette’s snapping fingers rang out clear and sharp. The torn section of barrier was engulfed in Holiness, and a seal reformed.
[Is that enough?]
“……Oh.”
Rette turned toward the village, her white hair streaming behind her. The moment she looked away, several people tried to quietly reach for their weapons.
[I’ve done my job as a Saint now.]
Their hands stopped abruptly.
[From here on out, whichever side strikes first, I swear by the Goddess — you’ll be annihilated.]
At her sinister warning, both the lord’s forces and Escail’s side recoiled in terror and gave orders to lower their weapons.

* * *
The next morning, before dawn had fully broken.
By order of the Saint Rette, the people of Escail Village had to prepare meals. But when they were told to prepare food for the Kula people as well, some of them protested.
Rette tried to show off the Saint’s smile she’d been practicing diligently, intending to speak gently and persuasively: ‘I’ll explain shortly, but you bear some responsibility for this blizzard too. And surely it’s only natural to show hospitality to guests who’ve come to your village, isn’t it?’
But what actually came out was.
[Do it. Now!]
At Rette’s thunderous command, even the indignant villagers scrambled back to their tasks.
Rather than having reconciled the two sides, Rette had effectively seized control of the village and suppressed both factions through sheer force.
“Here you go.”
“Th-thank you.”
Yet the atmosphere that had been kill-or-be-killed just before dawn gradually softened as people shared food together.
Wherever people lived, whatever they did, they all needed to eat and survive.
Rette, who had been watching warily lest another fight break out, finally withdrew her Saint’s power and turned her attention elsewhere.
“Petria.”
Petria, the only person in the village she’d grown close to, approached trembling.
“I-I’m so sorry, Rette…… no! Lady Rette the Saint! I didn’t recognize you were a Saint and——”
Rette waved a hand dismissively.
“I came here in disguise anyway, so let’s not dwell on that. Instead, would you call over the Escail people? I’ll speak to the Kula side myself.”
And so Rette summoned the people from both villages to the Village Assembly Hall. It was the same spacious room where she had first met Nenia Mizenashi.
Rette, who had arrived first, was surveying her surroundings when—
“Hee-hee-hee!”
She startled.
Nenia Mizenashi, whom Simon had faced, was standing there quite plainly, glancing about the room.
No, wait—looking more carefully, it wasn’t Nenia after all.
“Could you be the grandmother who read fortunes for us in Escail Village?”
The old woman nodded and bowed respectfully.
“Gratula mi Kibillis. I am honored to stand before the goddess’s nearest daughter.”
“…You startled me. However did you manage to climb all the way to this Snowy Mountain in that condition?”
“I was carried. The lord said he needed someone who knew the path to the village.”
Rette’s cheeks flushed slightly as she cleared her throat.
“…That future you saw in your reading—you meant resurrecting people back to life, not raising them as Undead?”
The old woman simply laughed.
“I only read fortunes. It’s up to each person to accept what they see.”
The old woman said nothing more and turned to look around again, her expression tinged with longing now that she had returned to her homeland.
Rette watched her receding figure and found herself wondering.
‘But when does she fly through the sky?’

* * *
A short while later, people from both Escail Village and Kula had gathered in the Village Assembly Hall, and Rette walked forward. No longer needing to hide her identity, she had changed into her Efnel School Uniform.
She continued toward the dais.
“More than decades of conflict and resentment between you,” Rette said slowly as she climbed onto the platform.
“I won’t presume, as an outsider, to simply tell you to get along. But any misunderstandings must be cleared up.”
She stopped and looked directly at the assembled villagers.
“Let me speak the truth: the blizzard was not the wrath of some Snow Maiden. It was an abnormality from the Dungeon.”
Both villages erupted in murmurs at once. Escail Village’s reaction was particularly intense.
“That’s impossible! We clearly saw the Snow Maiden ourselves!”
“And have any of you ever been to the Dungeon?” Rette’s voice turned sharp.
“Simon—I mean, our teacher and I went directly to the cave at the peak of the Mountain Range and confirmed the Dungeon’s true nature. We confirmed it was the source of the blizzard. And when we came back out, the people of Mizenashi surrounded us and tried to kill us.”
“…!”
Rette smiled thinly.
“Think about it. While your villages were in danger, where were the Mizenashi?”
“N-now that you mention it…!”
“They went to silence us. They couldn’t let anyone know the truth—that the Snow Maiden’s wrath was actually a Dungeon abnormality. Not when it was the only thing keeping you from annihilating each other.”
Escail Village fell silent. Rette turned to address the people of Kula.
“They fabricated the Snow Maiden legend to create a smokescreen and conceal the Dungeon’s nature. The reason they maintained the abnormality by guarding the Dungeon was simple: revenge against the people of Kula, who had driven them out long ago.”
A few Kula residents bowed their heads.
Mutual rage that had nearly brought mutual destruction. If not for the interference of outsiders like Rette and Simon, it truly might have happened.
“This is intolerable!”
“The Saint speaks only for herself! Without clear evidence…!”
Tap. Tap.
Then an old woman, leaning on her staff, climbed onto the dais.
“Everything the Saint has said is true.”
It was the fortune-teller from Kula. Her appearance made both sides stir with confusion.
“I am Nenia Mizenashi’s sister, Angia Mizenashi.”
Thud! She struck her staff against the floor—the same habit her sister had—and fixed the crowd with her gaze.
“Fifty years ago, my sister and our family told me they would take revenge on Kula using the Dungeon’s abnormality. I opposed them, and for that, I was cast out of the village.”
“B-but then it really was…!”
“I stake the Mizenashi Name upon it: the Saint speaks the truth.”
A heavy silence fell over the assembly. Rette’s face broke into a satisfied smile as she folded her arms.
Bang!
The rear door swung open, and Simon appeared, snow still clinging to his head.
“My apologies for the delay.”
“S-Simon!”
“The Priest!”
Rette’s face brightened.
‘Why did you take so long! You fool!’

Simon gave Rette a subtle wave before opening his mouth.
“All the Mizenashi mages have been bound and secured near the Dungeon. We can all go check on them shortly. But first.”
Simon glanced around at the gathered crowd.
“The crisis isn’t over yet.”
“Not over?”
“Rette and I ventured into the Dungeon ourselves, but we never found the most crucial figure—the Dungeon Master.”
Simon’s voice grew grave.
“Unless we destroy the Dungeon Master, the Dungeon and the blizzard won’t disappear.”
“……Oh!”
“And the Dungeon Master is here. Right now. Among us.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd—voices overlapping, rising.
People scrambled to their feet in confusion.
“W-who on earth are you talking about, Professor?”
“Tell us!”
Simon closed his eyes slowly.
“The villagers of Escail Village know this, but the Mizenashi performed a ritual to offer sacrifices to the Snow Maiden. However, because sacrificing young people would provoke fierce resistance from the villagers, the Mizenashi set an example by offering their own heirs as sacrifices instead. Only those who survived that ordeal were permitted to bear the Mizenashi name.”
Everyone swallowed hard, listening intently.
“A Mizenashi girl who was once offered as a sacrifice, the only person bearing the Mizenashi name in this village now, and someone whose bones were discovered in the Dungeon—someone who should never have existed in the first place.”
Simon’s gaze fixed on one figure.
“It’s you, isn’t it? Petria.”
All eyes snapped toward Petria in shock. Visibly flustered, she waved her hands frantically.
“W-what? What are you suddenly talking about—!”
“Nenia Mizenashi confessed everything.”
Simon’s voice turned ice-cold.
During those hours of combat, Simon had subdued all the Mizenashi mages with the Chaos Power.
And the Chaos Power’s special effect—
When it struck true, it shattered reason and brought forth hallucinations and delirium.
*Where is the Dungeon Master?* Simon had demanded.
But even under the Chaos Power’s grip, not a single one of them had answered.
Cursing the stubbornness of the Mizenashi, Simon was about to stand when—
*Run! You must run away!*
Nenia Mizenashi had cried out.
*Petria! No—Petria! You must escape!*
Petria was her granddaughter.
There was no reason to address her with such deference.
And then there was that dead teacher from the ancient Dungeon—the dragon-type monster that had taken on her form.
If that were the case—
“I’m human! There’s no way I could be such a monster!”
Petria’s shout erupted across the hall.
“Besides, I’m Mizenashi, but I can’t even use Frost Magic—I was never selected because I’m talentless! This makes no sense—!”
“Petria?”
Rette crouched on the platform, her smile serene. Petria, catching sight of her, cried out in desperation.
“R-Rette! No! Saint Rette! You believe in me, don’t you?”
“I do.”
Rette smiled gently.
“Once you’ve proven it through death.”
A piercing shriek tore through the air—
In that same breath, a Holy Arrow blazed across the room from the side, its radiance blinding.
“Rette!”
Even Simon couldn’t help but cry out. The arrow of holiness seized Petria’s body and hurtled her straight through the wall.
“That’s going too far!”
At Simon’s protest, Rette rose from the platform with an indifferent expression.
“Look at her now and say that.”
“What?”
Simon’s head whipped around.
Petria stood motionless, her expression cold, gripping the Holy Arrow in her right hand. Ice scales clustered densely along her right arm, glinting like slivers of winter.
“Can’t use magic, you said?”
Rette descended from the platform, her words cutting sharp.
“Oh, and that? That’s actually Holy Magic—it just happens to be fast. The recovery function comes as a bonus.”
……
Petria bit down hard on her lip.

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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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