Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 534

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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 Necromancer School – Episode 534
A class where students must complete a Funeral Magic ritual on a Ghoul using only practical work—no lectures—to receive a Pass.
The students seemed lost at first, but the 2nd Years who had survived the extreme competition showed their mettle. They adapted to the circumstances in whatever way they could.
On average, by the time they’d consumed about six Ghouls, they’d mastered Funeral Magic and succeeded in defeating a Modified Skeleton.
The named students excelled at Funeral Magic as well. Hector burned through four Ghouls, while Aseraz used only two.
The most striking was Lorain, who could no longer use her Anomaly. Yet she was so confident in her Undead Control that she pulled off the extraordinary feat of subduing a Modified Skeleton without Funeral Magic at all.
When they first heard the assignment explained, it seemed like an impossible hurdle. The result was astounding: all fifty-two students passed. Even the lowest-performing student managed to master Funeral Magic with only one Ghoul remaining.
“You all did great work!”
“Excellent effort!”
Lin and Rune, the twin professors, called the students together. Though everyone’s spirits were worn thin, their eyes brightened at the thought of facing tomorrow’s Real Combat safely.
“Tomorrow afternoon, you’ll have Real Combat training using Ghouls!”
“Only Ghouls with a Seal can be used in actual combat, but if you want more practice beforehand, you can use regular Ghouls!”
“That concludes today’s lesson!”
“See you soon~”
The students bowed respectfully.
“Thank you for the instruction!”

* * *
A riot of color.
Yellow and red autumn leaves, each brimming with personality, drifted down serenely.
Crunch—
Simon walked forward, treading on the fallen leaves.
Lost in the poetic mood and savoring the pleasant ease, he arrived at his destination sooner than expected.
Before his eyes lay a massive dragon skeleton half-buried in fallen leaves.
“……Ha.”
This year’s assignment: the Bone Dragon.
No matter how many times he saw it, he couldn’t quite believe it—and each time, a chill ran through him.
Whenever he needed a boost or wanted to shift his mood, he’d slip into this Subspace that Neftis had given him.
Though he’d applied no Summoning Magic techniques, dark energy was already rippling across the bone-stripped corpse of the dragon.
What kind of result would be born if he created an Undead from such remarkable material?
“I haven’t attempted it yet, but I’ll finish it no matter what it takes.”
That Bone Dragon was this year’s assignment.
For now, he had to pour all his effort into tomorrow’s Practical Assessment with the Ghouls.
With resolve steeled, Simon exited the Subspace and stepped outside.
Beyond the Subspace, night had fallen.
Simon withdrew the Orb he’d been treading on, tucked it carefully into his pocket, and checked his watch.
The time had finally come.
“All right, let’s do this!”
Simon slapped his own cheek sharply, the sound ringing out.
Operation commence.

* * *
Rochester, the students’ city.
Rochester, which students eagerly looked forward to visiting on weekends, was the largest city in Rocksum.
However, on weekday evenings, few people ventured out apart from students scaling the walls, and it was during these times that the residents’ parties began.
Boom-clang— boom-clang—
The mingled sound of an old trumpet and a battered drum could be heard.
The trumpet was played by the butcher from the neighboring shop, the drum by the weapon smith.
Everyone savored the earthy rhythm while raising mugs of foam-laden dark ale. Ha-ha-ha! Boisterous, carefree laughter filled the air.
The Black Shark Tavern, situated on the outskirts of Rochester.
Given its somewhat dated atmosphere, it wasn’t the tavern students preferred, but Rochester’s residents came and went like regulars daily. The older servants from the Necromancer School also visited frequently.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha!”
And there was someone who, in less than a year, had become the undisputed mainstay and most distinctive presence of the Black Shark Tavern. A woman occupied an entire table, stacking drum barrels of dark ale and drinking from them.
Glug-glug—
She hoisted the massive, heavy drum barrel with the strength of her arms alone, threw her head back, and poured the dark ale straight down her throat with reckless abandon—a sight to behold.
The onlookers chuckled as they watched.
“No matter how many times I see it, it never gets old.”
“Please, Professor, take it easy! You’ll stop breathing! Aw-ha-ha!”
Clang—!
She slammed the drum barrel down on the table, her face flushed red with drink, and bellowed.
“Shut it! Whether I drink or not is my business!”
Byeol-Ya Toon Sokuem Malarat, the second-year Poison Studies Department professor.
The bearded man beside her thrust a beer glass in her direction.
“Professor, are the kids still giving you trouble these days?”
“Ah, well! It’s much better than back when they were first-years. At least now they’re a year older and have some sense in them.”
Byeol-Ya hoisted an entire drum barrel and clinked it against the man’s beer glass.
“But you know, sometimes I think—why did I leave the steppes and come all the way out here to play professor? What riches and glory was I chasing?”
“Ha ha ha! This woman’s got the same tired complaints every single time!”
“If you go back to the steppes, we’ll be the ones who suffer! And your student evaluations are excellent, aren’t they? You’ve got to keep at it!”
“Shut your traps, all of you!”
Ha ha ha!
Not that one should presume to address the continent’s most authoritative figure, Kizen, but knowing Byeol-Ya’s frank and open nature, the patrons spoke to her without the least hesitation.
Byeol-Ya herself preferred this atmosphere to the stiff formality of lesser folk who bowed and scraped like servants.
“Ugh, but why does the liquor taste so bad today?”
Having already emptied two barrels, Byeol-Ya shook the drum loudly as she spoke.
“Boss! What’s going on?”
The tavern keeper shrugged.
“Professor, that came in with yesterday’s shipment. You said it tasted fine yesterday, didn’t you?”
“I don’t care! It tastes awful!”
She drummed the empty barrel on the table—thud, thud—then casually rolled it across the floor. Her eyes grew distant as she gazed up at the ceiling.
“Sigh… why do I miss the steppes so much today…”
“Hello there, Professor.”
Someone approached boldly and pulled out a chair directly across from her.
It was a man draped in a Black Robe.
“Who are you?”
Her brow furrowed.
“I heard you weren’t enjoying the taste of the liquor today.”
The man produced a fresh bottle from his robes and slid it across to her.
“!”
It was a jug-shaped bottle, its mouth sealed with what looked like paper and tied off with cord.
“I hear the Malarat people of the steppes have a special fondness for Fermented Mare’s Milk Liquor.”
“What… how did you…?”
The man pulled back his robe, revealing his face.
A blue-haired boy, still bearing the softness of youth, smiled gently.
“It’s been a while. Professor.”
It was Simon. She burst out laughing.
“What? Where did you come from, all of a sudden?”
“Have a drink first, and we can talk. I’ll pour for you.”
Just as Simon was about to prepare a cup, she corked the jug bottle with a soft pop.
“Dick sent you, didn’t he? What’s he scheming?”
‘Ugh.’
The “Dick” she referred to was Dick Hayward.
In fact, Simon had stopped by the Student Council Office first.
—You want to ask Professor Byeol-Ya for something?
At Dick’s question, Simon nodded eagerly.
—That professor’s whereabouts are obvious! She’ll be drowning herself at the Black Shark Tavern in Rochester. And here, take this.
Dick pulled a small jug-like object from his desk drawer and handed it to Simon.
—I was saving this for later use myself, but since it’s you, I’m giving it special treatment. When you bring this to her, she’ll be thrilled out of her mind.
—…But shouldn’t something this precious be yours to use?
—Come on, what are you saying? Between us, there’s no need for such formality. Take it. Go on.
That was roughly how it had come about.
Simon cleared his throat lightly, embarrassed.
“Well, if it’s not too much trouble, I actually wanted to ask you something about Poison Studies.”
“Oh ho—”
Her mouth curved upward, and her teeth showed in a shark-like triangular grin.
“You didn’t even sign up for my Poison Studies class, and now you want to ask me questions?”
Simon’s face froze despite his smile.
Had it been rude of him?
What should he say?
Seeing Simon’s nervous state, Byeol-Ya smirked and let out a loud laugh—kya ha ha ha!
“Just kidding! I’m only joking, you bastard!”
Then she brought her hand down hard on Simon’s shoulder twice. Each time, his body swayed and wobbled.
“A valedictorian and Student Council President of the first year, and you still have interest in Poison Magic? That’s good news!”
She rested her arm on the back of the chair.
“And besides me, I’m also in charge of Poison Magic for all second-year students. Even those who don’t attend my classes are still my students! I have the right to ask you!”
With that, she loosened the cord on a ceramic jug of liquor, gripped it in one hand, and took a long drink.
Glug—glug—
“Ahhhh!”
She let out a coarse exclamation of satisfaction and laughed, as if something inside her had suddenly opened up. A fleeting memory flickered across her eyes.
“This taste—yes, exactly this taste. No rare spirit across the entire continent could compare to it.”
She set the bottle down with a thunk and looked at Simon.
“What do you want?”
Simon, as if he’d been waiting for the question, opened his bag and pulled out a notebook. He held it open so Byeol-Ya could see it clearly.
“I’m working on something like this!”
“Hmm—”
She rested her chin in her hand and scanned through the notebook.
“I think I can manage the Summoning Magic part somehow, but the poison-handling aspects are difficult, so……”
She snatched the notebook from Simon’s hands and set it down on the table. Her eyes widened as she fixed her gaze on it.
As if she might be sucked into the page itself. One knee was propped up on the table.
“Ho.”
At last, an amused smile crossed her lips. She lifted her head and met Simon’s eyes.
“People call you crazy all the time, don’t they?”
“Yes, I—no, they don’t.”
“Not here, though. Follow me!”
She tossed the notebook into Simon’s lap, threw on her outer robe, and stood up.
“If I’m going to help you, I should do it properly, shouldn’t I? We’re heading to my lab!”
“Ah, understood!”

* * *
The next morning.
At last, the day of the practical assessment with Ghouls had arrived.
The professors had been relentlessly driving the students through consecutive Pass or Fail lectures, and they’d scheduled the practical exam for the very next day.
The core test was how much they could suppress the problems and develop themselves in such a short span of time.
The Summoning Department students knew this as well, so they pulled all-nighters perfecting and modifying their Ghouls. The basement practice room of the Dormitory was packed with second-year students.
The only sound was the quiet clatter of tools—no voices at all. The practical exam was scheduled for the afternoon, and mercifully, the morning was free. They had to maximize the performance of the Ghouls that had received their stamp of approval within the remaining time.
“Haaaa—”
Then, Will, a third-year who had returned to Rocksum the night before, came into the practice room rubbing his eyes.
“Huh, what’s this?”
The practice room was hot and stuffy. A few hollow-eyed second-year students looked at him and spoke in hoarse voices.
“……Ah, g-good morning……, senior.”
They greeted him like zombies. Some didn’t even bother to look up, absorbed in their work.
“…….”
Veins bulged visibly on Will’s forehead, the disciplinary officer of the class.
“Goddammit, these bastards are so out of it! A third-year walks in and they don’t even look? Is that supposed to be a greeting? Gather all the second-year students!”
His tongue was already moving, ready to go.
“I knew it would come to this. I should’ve cracked down harder during the hazing ritual……!”
“What are you doing?”
A cold voice came from behind him.
Will flinched and turned around to see a female student with her arms crossed. Like Will, she had a golden badge on her School Uniform collar indicating third-year status.
Benya, ranked seventh among all third-year students.
“You caused all that trouble at the welcome event, and you still haven’t broken that filthy habit?”
At the word “filthy,” Will’s face flushed red. Benya continued.
“And you made a promise with Leonard and the Student Council President, didn’t you? No more mistreatment of the juniors.”
“Ah, no—this was……! For crying out loud! I was just pointing out that they didn’t greet properly!”
After the hazing incident, Benya had decided things couldn’t go on as they were and began actively protecting the second-year students while pressuring Will.
Will had been walking on eggshells around Benya lately, but backing down in front of his juniors like this wounded his pride.
“No matter what, there should be basic courtesy between seniors and juniors! We let things slide after the first day and haven’t interfered, so how did the department end up like this……!”
“Second-year students.”
She shook her head and continued speaking.
“You have your practical assessment this afternoon.”
Practical Assessment.
At those two words, the fierce hazing officer’s expression softened noticeably.
“Ah, so that’s what this is about? Hem hem! You lot! If that’s the case, you should’ve said so from the start, and I would’ve just been lenient…! Ahem! Anyway, do well on your exam!”
Will fled the Waiting Room like a man pursued.
Benya shook her head with amusement, then turned to address the 2nd Years.
“Sorry about the noise from my classmate. Carry on.”
“Yes, Senior!”
The 2nd Years resumed their work. Benya, watching them with satisfaction, turned her head.
“You made it?”
Simon was just entering from the opposite stairwell. He bowed his head respectfully.
“Thank you for making time for me, Benya.”
“Our Jane called you, so of course I’d make time. Should we step outside to talk?”
“Yes!”

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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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