Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 430

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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 430
Whoooosh—
An emerald-hued sea, beautiful with rolling waves.
The weather was mild, with just a faint warmth in the air.
This was Kula as it truly was.
And against this verdant backdrop of Kula’s sea, Simon and Israphil stood together.
“Here it is.”
Click.
What she handed to him was something like reins, intricately crafted from platinum. A soft luminescence of Holy Power rippled across its surface.
“I heard the report from Rette.”
Israphil, her eyes closed as always, smiled gently.
“Divine Beast Materialization. And a chariot of light and thunder to match. I’ve prepared a Holy Artifact befitting it.”
Simon accepted the artifact with an expression of deep gratitude.
It made a metallic clicking sound, yet it was not heavy. It had the comfortable texture of fiber, with a toughness that suggested it would never tear.
“I gave considerable thought to which artifact to gift. It will help control the swift speed of the Divine Beasts.”
“Thank you so much, Israphil!”
Simon bowed his head respectfully.
“I should be thanking you for completing the mission so safely.”
“For me, leaving the mission behind made this time meaningful! I learned so much coming to the Sacred Federation.”
“Hehehehe! I’m so glad.”
While the two exchanged warm words, Rette, pushed to the margins of attention, gazed at the sea with an oddly sullen expression.
Then, springing to her feet, she stomped down hard on Simon’s foot.
“Israphil, if you don’t mind… Augh!”
Stars exploded from the top of Simon’s foot.
Rette walked past, feigning innocence while stretching.
“Rette!”
“Is something the matter?”
Israphil covered her mouth and laughed with elegant grace.
“It seems the two of you have grown even closer in my absence.”
Rette spun around indignantly.
“Closer, my foot! And Israphil, I will never forget about the lodging incident!”
“Oh my, whatever do you mean?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know!”
Israphil simply breezed past with an artlessly innocent smile.
She then promised Simon that a reward of ten thousand Gold would be sent to Resshil through Broker. It seemed a currency exchange procedure would be necessary.
“Now, let us entrust the remaining arrangements to the Priests.”
Israphil gently patted Simon’s shoulder.
“Have our nephew return to the Dark Alliance tomorrow.”
Rette’s expression shifted to one of surprise.
“A-already?!”
“My, Rette. Are you reluctant to see him go?”
“What are you talking about!”
Rette shrieked.
“Anna said she wishes to see Simon’s face at least by the New Year. The New Year should be spent cozily with family. And moreover.”
Israphil turned to face Rette.
“You must resume your duties as a Saint.”
Rette made a stifled sound and took a step backward.
“The most crucial period for a Saint’s life is the first year following her awakening.”
Israphil began her lecture with a smiling face.
“Despite being a newly awakened Saint, you’ve already been away for a full fortnight. The high-ranking officials of Efnel are in quite a state. Beginning tomorrow evening, you are to don your Saint’s Robe and attend ceremonies. It is vital that you make your name and face known to the people and build your influence.”
Rette answered with a slumped face, “…Yes, understood.” Simon chuckled and offered encouragement.
“Do your best, Your Holiness.”
A spinning kick of pure fury flew at his face in immediate retaliation.

* * *
“Goodbye! Your Holiness! And Priest Sean!”
“Thank you for saving our village!”
Now, after bidding farewell to the people of Kula, whom he had grown fond of, Simon traveled via Teleport Magic Circle.
After arriving at the Border, he exchanged farewells with Rette and Israphil and parted ways.
And soon after, in a secret storage facility before the Border.
“…Here we go again.”
Simon smiled ruefully as he prepared to climb into the wooden crate on the supply cart.
“We depart for the Dark Alliance in ten minutes!”
Broker, disguised as a merchant, announced this with practiced efficiency.
He was used to it by now. Or perhaps he’d simply resigned himself to it.
He performed some vigorous stretching to loosen his muscles, trying to acclimate his back in advance to the ordeal it was about to endure.
Tap-tap-tap!
A suspicious figure in a black robe burst through the warehouse door.
“H-Hey, who are you!”
Broker threw up his arms to block the intruder.
“You can’t just waltz in here—!”
But with ghostly nimbleness, the figure slipped beneath his arms and rushed straight at Simon.
“Who—! Oof!”
Simon’s face was seized and his body stuffed into the wooden crate in one fluid motion.
“Move aside, quick!”
As the robe billowed, a girl’s face emerged—white hair and golden eyes gleaming in the warehouse light.
Simon’s jaw fell open.
“R-Rette?”
“Shh! Shh! Israphil will hear us! Move over, now!”
Before Simon could step back, Rette forced herself into the crate beside him.
‘Ugh!’
How could someone of such holy station be so recklessly stubborn?
As she wedged herself into the cramped space, their bodies pressed flush against each other.
Simon went rigid. Her flushed face, gasping for breath, was inches from his own.
“Here’s a tip!”
Clink!
Rette, oblivious to everything else, flicked a coin to Broker.
He caught it with an expression of pure delight. “Oh-ho!”
“I’ll close the lid now.”
Rette reached for the crate’s cover.
“Wait—just wait a moment, Rette! What about your Saint lessons? Your schedule?”
“Who cares!”
Rette was beyond reason.
“Since it’s come to this, I’m going to the Dark Alliance too, and I’ll see Anna’s face—”
Whoosh.
A white cord wrapped around Rette’s waist, and with a cry she was yanked into the air.
“You mustn’t act on childish whims, Rette.”
Tap. Tap.
The sharp click of heels echoed through the warehouse.
Broker immediately prostrated himself on the ground, and Simon rose from the cart.
“Israphil!”
Israphil walked forward, while Rette dangled and thrashed in the air above.
“L-Let me go! Israphil, let me down!”
“I thought it was strange that you went so quietly, but I told you this wouldn’t do, didn’t I?”
Israphil pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed deeply.
“What am I to do with this reckless girl?”
Rette’s face flushed crimson as she shrieked.
“I said let go!”
Snap!
Israphil flicked her fingers and the cord binding Rette vanished. Caught off guard, Rette tumbled and hit the warehouse floor hard.
“Rette.”
Israphil’s heels tapped across the ground as she approached.
Rette looked up from where she’d fallen, wincing—and froze at the sight of Israphil’s black pupils, fully exposed.
“…!”
Revealing her eyes was how Israphil showed she was truly angry, and Rette instinctively shrank back.
And yet.
“Do not let a moment’s impulse create a lifetime of regret.”
Her voice was soft and gentle, coaxing rather than condemning.
“If you leave without a word again, your position as Saint may be in jeopardy.”
“I don’t care about that title—!”
“Without the Saint’s power—”
Israphil’s gaze turned toward Simon.
“Could Rette defeat our niece?”
“…….”
Rette closed her mouth. Israphil smiled faintly, returned to her eyes-closed expression, and turned to Broker with a question.
“How much time remains until departure?”
Broker bowed even more deeply and cried out.
“Five minutes left!”
“Very well.”
Israphil gestured for Broker to rise and continued speaking.
“Take this time to exchange final farewells.”
Israphil and Broker walked out of the warehouse. Broker ventured carefully.
“Forgive me for presuming, but are you certain? It seems she hasn’t given up yet…….”
“It’s fine.”
Israphil’s eyes curved into crescents.
“She’s a clever girl. I’m sure she understands by now.”

* * *
“Sigh.”
The door closed, and Rette exhaled. Simon rose from the box and stepped out.
“I figured you’d get scolded.”
“……Stay quiet.”
Rette’s face flushed and she pouted. Simon let out a small laugh and folded his arms.
“I’d like to take your side, but this time Israphil was right. You can’t abandon your post during the most critical phase of your career as a Saint.”
“……Yeah.”
Rette lifted her chin stubbornly.
“I know that myself.”
“Then that settles it.”
A brief, awkward silence fell between them.
The five minutes they’d been given were short, yet words refused to come easily.
“If war ever breaks out between the Sacred Federation and the Dark Alliance.”
Her eyes met his.
“We’ll end up fighting each other, won’t we?”
“……I suppose so.”
Rette laughed quietly.
“When that day comes, I’ll be the one to strike you down.”
“Don’t expect any mercy from me either.”
The two of them looked at each other and smiled softly.
“Still, apart from that—I’m grateful for your cooperation as a Saint representing the Federation in this matter.”
“Then next time, come to the Dark Alliance yourself.”
“What?”
Simon continued with a smile.
“Next time we’ll hire you. Truth is, the Dark Alliance suffers from the lack of Priests. There’s plenty of work we struggle with.”
Priests excelled in fields like healing, restoration, and purification of the undead.
And places like Deathland, saturated with curses and toxins, would have been solved long ago if Priests were stationed there.
Upon hearing the proposal, Rette lowered her eyes.
“……The Dark Alliance.”
Even when she’d crossed the border carrying Anna’s medicine, it had felt like crawling into hell itself on her own feet.
But now.
“I’ll think about it.”
Her thoughts had shifted a little.
“Then.”
“Yes.”
Rette smiled warmly.
“Farewell, Simon.”

* * *
The bitter cold had passed, and Kula had reclaimed its clear sky, yet the summit of the towering Snow Mountain still churned with natural blizzards.
And in the mountain cave.
Paladins and Scholars of the Sacred Federation were now investigating the entrance to the Karisa Dungeon, which had since vanished.
“Who would have guessed a dungeon lay hidden in a place like this?”
“Right?”
The Paladins dispatched from the capital shifted restlessly, their armor wrapped in furs. One of the men turned his head.
“Scholar, have you learned anything?”
“Yes.”
The Scholar lowered his glasses and answered.
“I’ve discovered something quite remarkable.”
“Remarkable?”
“Is it true that this dungeon’s Barrier was artificially constructed by mages of the Mizenashi family?”
“That’s correct.”
“But it would be impossible for them to create such a Barrier with their power alone.”
The Paladin spun around sharply.
“What do you mean?”
“Remarkably, this Barrier’s structure is a composite magic circle made of both Holy Power and Dark Element magic circles. You’d need both properties to dispel it.”
The Paladins’ jaws fell open.
“Did you just say Dark Element? A Dark Element Barrier in this northern mountain valley…!”
“I find it hard to believe myself, but it’s the truth.”
The Paladin fell silent, his face growing pale as he wrestled with the implications.
“We’ll need to re-interrogate the Mizenashi people taken to the capital. And I should contact the Saint of the Stars to find out how she dispelled the Barrier….”
A Paladin standing quietly nearby turned his head.
“Commander, why have you stopped speaking?”
But then.
The commander who’d just been talking had vanished.
“C-commander?!”
Fwooooosh!
Fwoosh!
The bodies of the Paladins guarding the cave warped and twisted as space itself distorted, then disappeared without a trace.
In the blink of an eye, every Paladin’s existence was erased.
“H-haah!”
The terrified Scholar collapsed where he stood.
The Paladins were gone, and something was entering the cave.
A figure cloaked in robes.
Or rather, the thing was entirely wrapped in robes, the hem dragging across the ground.
Within the darkness beyond the hem, only two points of light gleamed.
[I created that Barrier.]
Not human.
The Scholar’s lips trembled violently as a terror unlike anything he’d ever known seized him.
“W-who are you?!”
“Curious?”
A voice suddenly burst out from beside him, and the Scholar gasped in fright, spinning his head.
A woman with disheveled hair hanging loose.
Yet her face was invisible—as if black shadow clung to it like a mask.
“I’m not telling~”
Snap!
Crack!
Blood sprayed.
The Scholar’s neck and spine twisted in an impossible direction, and he crumpled.
“So what now, old one?”
She turned to face the robed figure.
“First the Blood Heavenly Cult, then the Dungeon Master Karisa. All the pieces you laid down are being destroyed one by one.”
Eyes gleamed within the black robes.
[…There are still many pieces left. But.]
Sssssss.
A withered arm jutted from within the pitch-black robes.
[Kizen and Efnel.]
A dark blue radiance wavered in that palm, then faded.
[I must eliminate those two places first.]

* * *
After promising that Rette would come over next, Simon crossed the Border.
Humans are creatures of adaptation, or so they say—Simon dozed off without complaint in the jimjilbang cart, whose ride was absolutely miserable. By now he’d grown not just accustomed to it, but had come to find a strange comfort in it.
After crossing the border into the Neutral Zone, they’d used a Teleport Magic Circle to move into Dark Alliance territory, then traveled by cart to Resshil.
Once he’d arrived in Resshil, Simon ran the mountain range on foot and reached home before nightfall.
“Simon! Welcome home, dear!”
“Welcome back, Simon! Your sister’s already filled me in on everything.”
Simon embraced Anna and Richard in greeting.
Anna immediately untied her apron.
“Son, you must be starving, aren’t you?”
“Oh, no! I grabbed some snacks on the way here…….”
“Never mind—I’ll make you something delicious. Just wait a moment.”
Of course, Simon had no say in the matter.
While Anna was preparing dinner, Simon went up to his room.
“……Oh.”
But something.
There were quite a few letters piled up on his desk.

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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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