Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 633

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Necromancer School’s Summoning Genius Episode 633
A young Saint and the Witch’s daughter.
Met in the Arena.
“…….”
“…….”
The two stood gazing at each other in complete silence.
A calm like the hush before a storm. Simon, watching their every move, darted forward with surprising speed.
“R-Rette! This is Lorain Arkbold, she’s my classmate from the Summoning Department! And Lorain? This is Rette. She’s a friend from my hometown, and I happened to run into her at the Dark Festival, so I’ve been showing her around Rocksum!”
Simon spoke hurriedly, almost as if apologizing, terrified the two might collide at any moment.
“……Oh, hello.”
Lorain was the first to speak. She offered an awkward smile and stiffly waved her hand side to side.
“……Yes, hello. It’s nice to meet you.”
Rette smiled back, but the corners of her mouth kept twitching unevenly.
“The, the weather is really nice today.”
“The sunlight is bright.”
As they exchanged these strained pleasantries, anyone watching felt their breath catch at the sheer awkwardness of it all.
It was the first time the usually spirited Rette had shown such discomfort, and equally rare to see Lorain so hesitant and fumbling.
Both reached out as if to shake hands, only to quickly pull back or hide them at their sides.
“……Enjoy the rest of the Dark Festival.”
“……Yes, thank you for your kindness.”
Each seemed deeply uncomfortable with the other’s mere presence, yet out of courtesy to Simon, who had made the introduction, they maintained at least minimal civility.
“……Well then, I should go. See you at the next match, Simon.”
“Y-yeah.”
“……Farewell.”
Lorain gradually receded into the distance.
Rette, unable to tear her gaze from Lorain’s departing back, finally exhaled a long sigh once Lorain had vanished completely, her hand pressed to her chest.
“What is it with that woman.”
Her tone shifted back to its usual cynicism as she spoke.
The smile had already drained from her face entirely.
“What’s wrong?”
“I could tell just from seeing her.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits.
“She’s fundamentally incompatible with me, and extremely dangerous.”
Simon had never thought of Lorain that way, but from the perspective of a Sacred Federation Priest, he supposed it made sense.
“……And I’ve definitely heard that name before somewhere.”
Simon blinked.
“You introduced her surname as Arkbold. Don’t you know?”
“I don’t.”
“She’s the daughter of Neftis Arkbold.”
Only then did Rette’s eyes go wide. Her mouth fell open in an O of realization.
“Ah!”
Rette’s fists clenched with sudden force.
“That’s why I felt so uneasy! Arkbold is the surname of the Death Witch! On our side, we only ever call her the Death Witch, so I got confused!”
‘So that’s how it was.’
In the Dark Alliance, whenever anyone mentioned Arkbold, they thought of Neftis—it was only natural he’d assumed she’d already known.
Drawing a long breath, her eyes grew sharp and cold.
“What a shame. I should have killed her right here.”
“……Rette.”
“I’m joking.”
Rette laughed softly and thrust her hand into her robe pocket.
“Because she’s your friend.”
At that, Simon finally let his tension ease and released a breath of relief.
“I’d rather not have to arrest you as a fanatic.”
“Understood.”
Rette began walking forward lightly.
“If possible, I’d prefer to never cross paths with that woman again in my life, and certainly not to become entangled with her. If we ever fought, regardless of who won, I’d say the outcome would be equally grim for us both.”
Watching Rette walk ahead, Simon made a mental note to be far more cautious about introducing his Necromancer friends.
Especially.
‘I absolutely cannot let her meet Serne!’
If those two strong-willed personalities ever encountered each other, trouble would inevitably ensue. At least Serne showed little real interest in the Dark Festival, and for that he was grateful.
“What are you doing? We don’t have time to dawdle.”
Rette glanced back over her shoulder as she spoke. Simon hurried after her, calling out.
“I’m coming!”

* * *
The two of them combed through Rocksum methodically.
Though Rette had claimed that Ever Kire likely wasn’t here, she went about the search with genuine seriousness.
Along the way, she bought and ate the food Kamibarez had recommended, and made a point to visit any place that suited her tastes.
“The Dark Alliance’s food is quite good, actually.”
Rette wound the noodles in her paper cup around a fork, speaking as she did. It was street food—noodles and meat and vegetables stir-fried together in a spicy soy-based sauce, without broth.
“Won’t you have some?”
“I’m fine.”
Simon answered as much, taking a bite of his sandwich. Rette neatly wound the noodles on her fork, added a piece of meat, and held it out to him gently.
“Let’s exchange bites.”
‘!’
As the food suddenly approached his mouth, Simon started in surprise and stumbled backward.
“Wait, hold on—!”
She narrowed her brows with a disgruntled expression.
“So you won’t eat what I give you?”
“No! That’s not it.”
“Then open wide.”
Rette brought the food closer to Simon’s mouth. Caught off guard, he hesitated and fidgeted before awkwardly opening his lips.
But then.
Snap!
Someone suddenly darted in between them and snatched Rette’s food right out of her hand.
Munch, munch—
The woman savored the soy noodles deliciously, then brazenly plucked the tissue from Rette’s hand and wiped her mouth with it.
“That was delicious.”
Then she turned around and flashed Simon a bright smile.
“My, what a coincidence—running into you here, Simon.”
Simon’s face flooded with despair. Though he was smiling, his lips trembled slightly.
“S-Serne.”
Of all people—she was the last one he wanted Rette to meet.
Simon tried to compose himself as he spoke.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came for the afternoon match, and since you were participating, I thought I’d stop by and get in a little exercise.”
The afternoon match today was a large-scale team event with over twenty students competing at once. Serne apparently felt inclined to join in.
Simon risked a glance at Rette.
But rather than looking displeased, Rette was studying Serne with an expression of curiosity. It was a markedly different reaction from when she’d seen Lorain.
“Is this person also your friend?”
“Y-yes! She’s Serne Aindarc. She’s the Ivory Tower’s successor.”
“All your friends are odd individuals.”
Rette stepped closer.
“And there’s a completely different aura than the woman I met earlier. I’m beginning to suspect something.”
She suspected something.
At those words, Simon went rigid. Rette was considering the possibility that Serne might be Ever Kire.
Serne turned to face Rette, still smiling.
“And you are?”
“Simon’s childhood friend. I go by Rette.”
“I see.”
Serne’s eyes narrowed like a fox’s.
“A childhood friend—that’s a common setup.”
“And.”
Rette reached behind her neck and pulled out a white feather, then flicked it with her finger and dropped it to the ground.
“That trick doesn’t work on me.”
Crack!
As Rette trampled the feather, she unleashed a murderous aura. Serne’s eyes widened slightly in surprise as she crossed her arms and laughed.
“So you’re no simple monkey.”
“The fact that you tried to control me only makes my suspicions worse.”
……This had become a headache.
Ever Kire, a fanatic, can manipulate people through supernatural ability. And because Serne had tried to control Rette, Rette was now mistaking Serne for a fanatic.
It was a misunderstanding she had every right to make.
“Wait! Rette! Serne isn’t……!”
Thump.
Rette, who had been crouching as she carefully set down her soy sauce noodles, suddenly shot forward in a gust of wind. Her body spun, leaving afterimages in its wake, and her pale leg lashed out into the air with ferocious force.
Crack!
The boom echoed through the space.
Simon’s mouth fell open.
“Hmm~”
Serne clicked her tongue. Rette’s kick had stopped mere inches from Serne’s head, and Serne stood at an angle with her arms folded, using the tip of a feather to block the strike.
Scritch-scratch!
The feather and foot scraped against each other as they clashed. Rette’s voice dripped with hostility.
“If you try to steal someone’s free will, you should be prepared to pay the price.”
“How entertaining.”
Both moved simultaneously into their next action. Rette dropped her leg and drove her fist forward, while Serne combed her fingers through her own hair and plucked three feathers, pinching them between her fingertips.
Just as their arms were about to extend toward each other——
Whoosh!
Thump!
A rough grip seized the delicate backs of both girls’ hands and yanked them forward. Their bodies tumbled into Simon’s embrace with a soft thud as he positioned himself between them.
“??”
Rette looked up at Simon with wide, stunned eyes, her wrist caught in his grasp.
“My, my~ quite forceful.”
Serne’s mouth curved into an amused smile.
“Both of you, stop this instant.”
Simon held both their wrists in his hands, wedged between them, his face set firm.
“You can’t keep fighting in a place this crowded——”
Then he noticed something. Despite the fight erupting, no one was paying them any attention.
Serne had driven feathers into the ground at some point, weaving a barrier around them all.
“I understand you want to protect your friend, but still.”
Rette spoke with a stubborn expression.
“That person could be pretending to be your friend. She tried to use mind control openly—we need to verify it.”
“Wait, Serne is originally someone with a psychic ability.”
Simon released their wrists as he explained. Serne rubbed her wrist with a knowing smile, while Rette hummed and placed her hands on her hips.
“Then why did she try to control me?”
“I’m interested in people like you.”
Serne answered simply and turned to look at Simon.
“And while I knew you could use ‘that power,’ I never expected you’d made a friend on ‘that side.'”
It was clear she knew full well that Rette was a priest.
Rette immediately stiffened with caution, and Simon rushed to offer an explanation before catastrophe struck.
“Serne! This is……!”
“I already have a rough idea of how things are developing.”
Serne ran her tongue across her lips.
“Kassan actually asked me for cooperation as well.”
“Ah.”
Simon faltered at that name.
He hadn’t expected Kassan’s name to come up here.
“Of course, I don’t care what happens to Kizen. Since I had no interest in undertaking work that wouldn’t benefit me, I refused. But I’ve still been lending some assistance by providing information through my own channels. There’s no harm in maintaining good relations with that person.”
Simon let out a breath of relief.
From what he’d heard, Serne hadn’t actually cooperated with Kassan, but she did seem to know that a fanatic had entered Kizen.
“The reason I used my feather on you,”
Serne finally looked at Rette.
“was because I had something I wanted to know.”
“Well, go ahead and ask.”
Rette’s expression showed disapproval of her, but she didn’t seem opposed to engaging with Serne—who was neither Ever Kire nor held all the information—either.
“It’s a question I ask every priest I meet.”
Serne continued.
“Do you know who Gawhen is?”
At those words, Simon’s eyes widened.
<If you wish to find your roots, seek out a person named Gawhen from the Sacred Federation.>
A hint that the future Simon had given to Serne.
She claimed not to care much, but it was clear the question had gotten under her skin.
“Gawhen?”
Rette tilted her head, puzzled.
“How could a Necromancer possibly know that name.”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————