Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 531

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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 531
Thud!
Crack!
The short boy took blow after blow under the merciless sun, wondering how it had come to this.
How had things spiraled so completely out of control?
Toto, who had struggled to find even a single Ratcher’s weak point, had gotten lucky—he’d stumbled upon one lying nearby, already felled by an arrow.
‘Someone must have abandoned it!’
Looking closer, an arrow was lodged deep in its muscle. It must have fallen short of Professor Grerion’s standards for Summoning Material Studies, so someone had discarded it.
That was when a brilliant idea struck Toto.
He wouldn’t get credit for it, granted, but what if he turned this creature into a Ghoul and used it to hunt down the other Ratchers?
Toto put the plan into action at once, and succeeded in transforming the Ratcher into a Ghoul.
But then.
Thud! Crack!
The moment the Ghoul finished forming, it pinned him down and beat him with feral abandon.
“I didn’t think about predatory instinct!”
He was desperately wrapping his head with his Kizen school uniform to shield himself, but it hurt like hell. His vision swam as his head snapped left and right; blood gushed from his nose in streams.
“Ah.”
As he lay there being pummeled by his own summoned creature, Toto’s gaze drifted past the Ghoul toward the shimmering sunlight beyond.
Me.
Am I going to die like this?
If he died now, every newspaper across the continent would trumpet the story in blazing headlines.
<Kizen Second-Year Summoning Student Beaten to Death by His Own Ghoul.>
“No, no, no! Anything but that!”
Toto screamed and gathered all the Dark Element he could muster in both legs, kicking the Ghoul clean off him. It tumbled backward, and he gasped and crawled forward on his belly.
-Screech!
The Ghoul wouldn’t relent—it bounded right back and leaped onto his back again.
Watching those razor-sharp claws flash closer, Toto let out a desperate cry.
“Please… help me…!”
Thud!
The Ghoul was struck by something and tumbled across the ground.
-Screech!
“?”
He jerked his head up and looked to the side. Small, odd puppet-like constructs were pinning the Ghoul’s limbs in place.
And beyond them.
“……”
A female student stood there with the expression of someone who had just seen something she would’ve preferred not to. Toto’s face burned crimson to the tips of his ears.
‘Why now? Why in front of a girl!’
She cleared her throat quietly.
“I won’t tell anyone.”
She murmured it in a flat voice and turned to leave. As she withdrew, the puppets restraining the Ghoul began to fade.
The Restraint was coming undone.
“Ggh!”
Tears streaming down his face in sheer humiliation, Toto pulled a bone from a Skeleton out of his Subspace and gripped it like a club.
“Aaaahhhhh!”
Screaming at the top of his lungs, he rained blow after blow on the Ghoul’s head as it struggled to break free from the Restraint.
And that day,
Toto opened his eyes to the Combat Magic exam.

* * *
The two hours Grerion had mentioned were drawing near.
Students were arriving at the starting grounds in steady streams.
“Assistants. Begin the evaluations!”
“Yes, sir!”
The students lined up and laid out their dead Ratchers on mats. The evaluation standard was nine or more intermediate-quality Ratchers per student.
The assistants examined each Ratcher carefully.
“Pierre, nine Ratchers confirmed. Pass.”
“Yes!”
The boy cheered, and the assistant wrote his name on the list, moving to the next column.
“Do you have more Ratchers in your Subspace? You must produce all of them.”
“Oh, but I thought nine was enough to pass? The ones I left in there aren’t very good specimens……”
“You must retrieve all the Ratchers.”
The assistant repeated the same words like a machine. Simon had no choice but to pull three Ratchers from his Subspace.
“Two are below standard. One additional, for a total of ten confirmed.”
Then he produced a stamp and quickly pressed it repeatedly against the bodies of the Ratchers. It was a Mana Stamp, used to tally by magical power.
‘A stamp, of all things?’
“Thank you for your effort. Next.”
The students who had returned submitted to their inspections and went to rest.
And watching from a short distance away were Grerion and, beside him, a middle-aged man rubbing his palms together obsequiously.
“Oh, Professor! I’m so grateful you’ve brought your students in these difficult times! If only you’d given me some advance notice!”
He was none other than the Lord who ruled this region. Grerion adjusted his Sunglasses and spoke.
“It’s merely a class. Please, no thanks are necessary.”
This area had been plagued by an explosive population of Ratchers.
Occasionally wandering Necromancers or people from Undead factories would visit, claiming they were making Ghouls, but that made little difference.
Ghouls depreciated in value over time, so they weren’t a popular commodity at the Undead factories either, and large-scale sweeps couldn’t be expected.
Still, having the students come like this provided some relief. The territory could leverage this to encourage merchant caravans to pass through.
“Nothing grand, but I’ve prepared some simple refreshments!”
The Lord gestured toward a supply cart. The resting students’ eyes sparkled at the sight of cool water, bread, and fruit inside.
Grerion’s expression was lukewarm, but seeing the students’ reaction, he nodded.
“I’ll accept it as a donation. Assistants! Distribute it to the students who passed!”
“Yes, Professor!”
It was around this time that Simon arrived.
There were about ten minutes left. The Ratchers were laid out, and the assistants took names.
“Student Simon Polentia, total of twelve Ratchers. You pass.”
Simon finally smiled and exhaled with relief. He received his stamp for the twelve Ratchers and took water and snacks.
Right after him, Lorain was setting down one exceptionally large Ratcher. The students murmured at its size.
“Student Lorain Arkbold, total of ten Ratchers. You pass.”
A Ghoul that large would surely be advantageous in tomorrow’s Practical Assessment.
Simon casually glanced around.
Third-ranked Hector and fifth-ranked Aseraz were already inside. His club mate Fitzgerald had just arrived and was retrieving nine Ratchers.
‘Where’s White?’
White, the transfer student from Allard, hadn’t arrived yet.
Toto was also absent from the grounds.
Grerion checked his Wristwatch.
“Three minutes remaining. Only students who arrive at the camp on time will be evaluated.”
The students sitting and nibbling bread, hearing this, shouted toward the students running in the distance.
“Hey! What’re you doing? Hurry up!”
“Three minutes left!”
The arriving students panicked and accelerated. Some were even using the Blackflame Internal Eruption technique, thundering forward.
Grerion looked at his watch.
“Two minutes remaining.”
As the earlier arrivals were shouting for the others to hurry in, a male student sighed with an exaggerated “Ugh~” and suddenly stood up.
“Everyone thinks they’re so clever once they reach second year.”
He was chewing gum steadily—the sole Summoning Department student who had secured twenty Ratchers in just thirty minutes after the exam began.
“Why cheer them on? If they fail here, I’ve got fewer competitors. Might as well play it Kizen-style.”
“What are you plotting now?”
His friend spoke with an anxious expression.
“I should obstruct them coming in.”
“You lunatic. The professor and assistants are watching with their eyes wide open. How could you?”
“Obviously I can’t directly interfere. Just watch how I do it.”
He drew a Magic Circle and activated something, as if saying just to observe.
Rumble—
As if a tremor rose from the ground, Ratchers erupted from the earth around them. More Ratchers were descending from the cliff face above.
“Gasp!”
The students who had already gathered their Ratchers and were running looked startled. Ratchers had abruptly appeared, blocking their path.
“What is this?!”
“Just keep running!”
The students continued forward, shooting down the Ratchers with Dark Magic.
Grerion didn’t intervene in the situation unfolding before him, remaining firmly in place as he watched his watch.
“One minute remaining.”
Simon too stepped forward with a tense expression. Just then, he felt a hand grab his shoulder—tap!
“Have you seen Toto?”
It was Fitzgerald. Simon shook his head grimly.
“No, haven’t seen him. Have you?”
“No.”
Screams erupted from outside.
The final group of students came sprinting through, Ratchers dangling from their limbs.
“Damn it! Who pulled all the Ratchers to the end!”
A student gasped for breath as though dying, sweeping his gaze angrily around the area. Meanwhile, the culprit whistled innocently.
Grerion spoke.
“Thirty seconds left.”
“Hnngh!”
Benz, the transfer student from Allard, came charging in astride a Ratcher he was controlling through Taming, as though riding a horse.
“How many are left now?”
“Fifty total here!”
And in that very instant.
Thud—
A massive white sphere materialized in the sky. It scraped against the ground as it hurtled forward—shrieking as it came—and burst through the finish line in the blink of an eye.
“Kyaaaah!”
Students crouched low beneath the tremendous shockwave. The white sphere that had crashed through dimmed like a spent lightbulb, and from it stepped White, the transfer student, touching down lightly on the ground.
The way she turned to face the other students with an utterly expressionless, bland countenance was simply masterful.
“Ten seconds.”
Now fifty-one.
The Summoning Department students began the countdown for the final arrival.
“Five!”
“Four!”
“Three!”
“Two!”
“One!”
Rrraaaagh!
The ground split open and an enormous worm-like creature burst forth.
“A—a Deathworm?”
It was a Deathworm, one of the uniquely troublesome Undead summons known for being extraordinarily difficult to control.
It opened its maw with a gurgling sound and spat something out. A black shape surrounded by a viscous green liquid that reeked abominably.
It was a person.
“Time.”
Grerion declared it, and the Senior Assistant stopped the timer.
Students cheered loudly. All fifty-two had made it within the time limit.
Simon and Fitzgerald rushed forward and pulled Toto from the foul green liquid that engulfed him.
“Ha ha! Gave us quite a scare, didn’t you, Toto.”
Simon grinned broadly as he spoke.
“A mutant-class member wouldn’t fall behind at this level.”
Fitzgerald adjusted his glasses as he spoke. Toto seemed to have no strength left to speak, his eyes rolling wildly with an expression of ‘uhhh’.
Grerion stretched out his arm.
“I’ll verify the students who just arrived.”
White had brought a full twenty Ratchers.
And Toto had managed, by the skin of his teeth, exactly nine.
The ninth Ratcher, which had an arrow lodged in its thigh, was borderline, so Grerion approached directly to judge.
“The arrow wound has slowed it down, true, but the upper skeletal structure is well-developed—decent grip strength to be expected. Borderline, but it passes.”
“Yes!”
Toto threw both arms up in the air, and Simon doubled over laughing. He couldn’t believe how this had worked out.
“That arrow-hit one—I caught it earlier but thought it wouldn’t pass, so I let it go.”
“Really? Thanks, Simon! You saved me!”
Grerion stomped his foot down with a bang and took up his characteristic pose—legs splayed wide, arms crossed.
“Everyone, listen up!”
Every student’s gaze turned toward Grerion.
“For Kizen, this result is only natural—don’t get too excited. That said, I’ll offer my praise. For this class, all fifty-two members of the Summoning Department have ‘passed.’ Congratulations.”
Students high-fived their classmates around them in celebration.
“And.”
Grerion removed his sunglasses.
“In this ‘Pass or Fail’ system without grades, there was indeed someone who deliberately obstructed their classmates.”
Piercing eyes, sharp as a bird of prey, flashed as they fixed on one male student. The one caught flinched.
“That’s not competition—that’s the underhanded scheming of cowards who fear fair play! I don’t know what other professors tolerate, but I won’t stand for such tricks. If you’re from Kizen, then prove it like Kizen students should—compete on merit in tomorrow’s practical assessment!”
Click.
Grerion said nothing more and put on his sunglasses, surveying the students.
“Thirty minutes’ rest, then back to Kizen for the next class! Use your break to prepare ghouls from the materials we’ve secured today.”
“Yes, Professor!”
The corners of Grerion’s mouth lifted.
“Prepare thoroughly. The tasks ahead for the younger students will be far more demanding.”
Simon was nodding quietly when Benz, who’d come from Allard, drifted over with a question.
“…Hey, Simon. Who exactly are these younger students he’s talking about?”
Simon let out a thin smile.
“You’ll be surprised when you see.”

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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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