Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 641

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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 – Chapter 641
[What are you? How did you get in here?]
A world blanketed in pure white mist.
The ground was cracked as though a terrible drought had struck it, and sitting in the midst of those fissures was a woman.
Her cloth garments were tattered and full of holes. A hat woven from dead reeds sat upon her head, and her brown skin stretched over a somewhat plump frame. Her lips were large and thick.
‘I see.’
Simon recognized her immediately, having encountered a situation like this before.
The Harvest Essence.
Or to be more precise.
“You’re the Harvest Essence, aren’t you?”
She still regarded Simon with wary eyes.
Then.
Growl—
A sound came from her belly. Acting on what seemed like pure instinct, she groped at the parched ground, pulled up a withered sprout, and thrust it into her mouth.
Blech!
She immediately spat it out and let out a cry of distress.
[It tastes awful!]
Simon blinked, his expression shifting to confusion.
[There’s nothing to eat here! Not here, not there!]
With each sweep of her finger, the white mist parted to reveal the desiccated earth beneath—skeletal trees, withered crops, and nothing but the scattered bones of dead animals rolling about.
[Of all places to end up! I’m ruined! Lucia! I miss you!]
She buried her face in her hands, tears streaming down. Simon hesitated before asking.
“Who’s Lucia?”
[The girl I originally chose.]
Simon recalled the Harvest Saint. It seemed that was her real name.
[When I was in her body, the world was overflowing with wheat! No meat, sure, but I made bread, I made noodles, and everything was just wonderful!]
She cried out in a tone of indignation.
[But then that girl died or left, and I got to escape! Honestly, I’d grown tired of flour after eating it so much, so when I spotted another appetizing person nearby, I latched onto them instead. But that one’s storehouse was magnificent on the outside—empty inside! They deceived me!]
Simon’s mind raced to keep up.
Alone, her words made little sense, but the interpretation seemed to be describing how the Harvest Essence had transferred from Lucia to Ever Kire.
[At least I was catching rats in that empty storehouse, but then that person died or left too, and I was able to escape again! So I went, but this wasn’t the continent I knew! I got trapped in some strange world and wandered about until I found a girl with what looked like the most plentiful storehouse, and I went into her body. But then!]
Her wailing reached its peak.
[It was a blank! A blank! This time she was a Necromancer! Of all things! How could I be so unlucky! A Necromancer’s storehouse—not a grain of wheat, not a single rat! I’m finished!]
Bang! Bang!
She suddenly began striking her forehead against animal bones in rapid succession.
Then she caught sight of Simon.
[So what are you, anyway?]
‘She certainly asks quickly.’
Simon smiled wryly and explained everything from the beginning.
“I’m Simon Polentia. And by the way, the girl you entered is named Sasha, and when I held her hand, this place became visible to me.”
[Good heavens, you!]
She sprang up.
[You have the ‘qualification’!]
Simon’s eyes gleamed with clarity. The words were identical to what the Essence of Purification had said when she first appeared in Sasha’s body.
-You have the ‘qualification’! You don’t seem to realize what an extraordinary thing you are, but this is truly a miracle, Simon Polentia!
Curiosity having finally taken hold, the Harvest Essence began circling around Simon, weaving back and forth. It was dizzying, but Simon bore it patiently.
[This is strange, though. Why do you move around like a boy?]
“…It’s not that I move around like a boy—I actually am a boy.”
[What?!]
She jumped backward with a yelp.
[Impossible! How could you be a boy—!]
“I wonder the same thing.”
It was common knowledge that Essences of Saints could only dwell in female bodies, yet Simon was inexplicably an exception.
[Hmm.]
The Harvest Essence scrutinized Simon from head to foot with a suspicious gaze.
[Are you really a boy? Can I take your pants off to check?]
“What are you saying!”
Simon’s face flushed crimson as he clutched at his waistband and retreated.
An Essence of a Saint who jested with humans!
[No pretense in the Inner World. But you are strange, aren’t you.]
The Harvest Essence crossed her arms and adopted a grave expression.
[A boy, but he has the “Qualification.” A very special one at that. Shall I take a look? ……Oh!]
The Saint of the Harvest turned her eyes bright and walked behind Simon.
[Someone’s already been here?]
Simon belatedly noticed the object positioned behind his back.
It was a pristine white throne.
It had been carved with a form as though blazing with flames. The Saint of the Harvest traced her palm across it.
[This one is that one, then.]
“Yeah. The Essence of Purification.”
Currently it dwells within Rette’s body. Though properly speaking, it should be called the “Essence of Stars” now, not the Essence of Purification.
The Harvest Essence was toying with the flame-carved throne when suddenly — crack! — real flames erupted. She startled and withdrew her hand.
[Alright, alright. Touchy, isn’t it? Just stop touching it!]
She spoke to the throne as if conversing with it, then rose to her feet.
[Its power hasn’t vanished yet. It lingers within your body, residual still.]
“Yeah, I suppose so.”
Simon understood well, for his mother Anna had undergone something similar.
When the Essence of Purification, seeking a new host, settled upon Anna’s body—she who was the “former Saint of Miracles”—the residual Essence of Miracles and the Essence of Purification had clashed, nearly proving catastrophic.
‘If the Harvest Essence settles in my body too, will a backlash occur?’
Simon grimaced with a low groan and folded his arms.
‘But there’s no time to hesitate.’
As things stood, Rette would die fighting Ever Kire alone.
Not only that—the people here, and if Rocksum, reduced to ruins, becomes truly real at Ever Kire’s hand, the repercussions would be incalculable. The entire continent would be in peril.
Any measure of strength would suffice. He needed power to fight.
“I’m proposing a deal. Harvest Essence.”
Simon extended his hand.
“Lend me your strength to defeat the false god and Ever Kire.”
Upon seeing his hand, she visibly recoiled, hunching her shoulders.
[Ah, no matter that you have the “Qualification”……it’s physiologically repulsive for me to dwell in a boy’s body.]
“There’s already precedent of another Essence entering my body, so what’s the issue?”
[Ugh, true enough. But it feels strange, no. Very strange!]
“Then you’ll just stay here rotting away, gnawing on dead roots and living?”
Simon’s point struck home; she buried her face in her hands, scratching her head in distress.
[……Fine, it can’t be helped. But you did say a deal, right?]
The Saint of the Harvest grasped the hand Simon offered and walked toward the rear.
She stopped beside the throne the Essence of Purification had created, then turned around and made the gesture of sitting down.
Crack.
A new throne materialized in that spot.
A white throne carved with grass, trees, and grain.
[I have conditions too. Will you hear me out?]
Simon readily nodded.
“Of course. That’s what a deal means.”

* * *
At that same moment, in Rocksum.
Outside the Balkeje Arena.
With the closing ceremony looming and all students from every department competing in the morning matches—
“…….”
Kassan moved forward with a complicated expression.
Once more, he checked the watch on his wrist.
‘I haven’t received a regular report from Simon.’
Simon was currently competing in the Balkeje Arena as well.
Yet since Simon was taking the role of escorting the Saint in place of the agents, he had said he would send reports even during the matches.
But no matter how long Kassan waited, the report never came.
‘Has something gone wrong?’
Kassan moved toward the Balkeje Arena and raised the Communication Crystal.
“This is K-1. I need a status check on the Saint at the Balkeje Arena.”
Click.
-This is HO. What are you talking about all of a sudden?
A Necromancer agent’s voice came through the Communication Crystal.
-The Saint at the arena? The Saint of the Harvest is in the Cave. Still not a sign of movement—
“I’m not talking about the Saint of Harvest. What just came in…….”
In that moment, Kassan’s words ground to a halt.
What am I saying right now?
What do you mean by who just came in?
-Ha! What are you talking about all of a sudden? You’re saying there are two Saints in Kizen? That’s quite the emergency.
“…….”
Currently, only one Saint has arrived in Rocksum.
The Saint of Harvest fell to Ever Kire, and Aleister’s team continued their search independently.
But.
‘I was trying to contact Simon.’
He lifted his wrist.
‘Because I thought Simon was with the Saint……?’
Crack!
Pop!
An image flashed through his mind—ash-grey hair whipping in the wind.
An uncanny sense of déjà vu.
Kassan pressed the heel of his palm roughly against his forehead.
‘A second Saint? Who?’
Crack!
Pop!
Kassan clung to the thought obsessively, and soon a voice echoed fragmentarily in his mind.
-What’s wrong, Simon? Why are you alone?
-Rette……!
A conversation with Simon surfaced dimly.
It was a memory that hadn’t existed before. His mind recoiled as if desperate to reject what he shouldn’t remember, trying frantically to turn away, but Kassan committed himself to thought with transcendent focus.
-No, the Saint has disappeared! This note……!
Crack!
Pop!
-Even after what happened to your own predecessor, how reckless.
Kassan’s eyes flew open as he finished the recollection.
‘Rette—who is she? If that predecessor refers to the Saint of Harvest, then did her replacement really come here?’
It might be nothing more than pointless delusion. Perhaps he was merely recalling a dream-like scene that had been sinking into his subconscious from fatigue.
But.
The enemy he’s currently hunting is Ever Kire.
And the moment he recalled her Ability——
‘!!’
Goosebumps erupted across his entire body.
“Damn it! She’s already gotten to me!”
Ever Kire possesses an Ability that erases and distorts memories. The instant Kassan grasped this fact, he stepped into the Dark Element and bolted toward the Balkeje Arena where Simon was.
“This is K-1! I need critical intel immediately!”
-This is HO, go ahead.
The key is Simon.
Connecting the vaguely surfacing fragments of memory, a second Saint had arrived in Rocksum, and her name was Rette.
She was the critical protective target who moved with Simon, and Simon, moving alongside her, should have submitted regular reports to us. But no report has come in.
And the last place Simon was seen——
“I need intel on the sixteenth arena, the Balkeje Arena!”
-Roger. Just that one? With Aleister’s authority we can have it in no time. Ten minutes.
Kassan sprinted and arrived at the Balkeje Arena in the meantime.
Tense in case Ever Kire might be lying in wait, he entered—but the arena looked ordinary.
Spectators were cheering from the stands, and students were competing earnestly. Among them, he could see Simon.
‘Did he simply miss the contact because the match was intense? No, that can’t be it.’
Kassan sniffed the air.
‘Faint, but the smell of blood. And.’
The fine hairs on his body stood rigid—not straight but twisted and curled like they’d been corroded, a reaction that meant only one thing.
‘Holiness.’
Ever Kire must have done something to this arena.
Kassan strode from the stands toward the arena floor.
-This is HO. We found the records, but yeah, something’s definitely off.
“Tell me.”
-There are two administrative orders. A rejection order for the Balkeje Arena, and a usage permit order for the Balkeje Arena.
“How can a rejection order and an approval order exist at the same time?”
-I asked the personnel on the ground, and they all just scratched their heads. They said they have no idea why such documents even exist. Even the commanders who issued the rejection orders don’t remember why they did it. So it all just… fizzled out.
“Don’t you find that strange?”
-Strange, yes, but did you figure anything out?
Kassan tapped his temple thoughtfully.
“If you have a mind, use it. Who is our enemy here?”
-Listen, I don’t understand what you’re even—wait. Oh! Aleister!
Click.
The sound of the Communication Crystal being passed to someone else came through.
-Ever Kire has already made a move, then. The reason for hiding the Balkeje Arena is because that’s the target zone.
Aleister’s steady voice came through the crystal.
-I’ve been listening to your report from the sidelines. Most intriguing—there was a second Saint, you say?
Kassan let out a low chuckle.
“It’s gratifying to find someone who understands. But do you believe it?”
-I have no choice but to believe it.
Irritation threaded through Aleister’s voice over the crystal.
-Until now, we’ve pursued her using logic that is perfectly conventional and modern, yet we’ve gained nothing. We need to shift our thinking. We must accept the absurd, the irrational, as truth.
Kassan’s lips curled upward.
“Excellent.”
-Are you at the scene?
“Yes.”
Kassan reported the details of the situation at Balkeje Arena in full, and Aleister formulated a plan instantly.
-There should be spectators nearby?
Kassan turned his head while still holding the Communication Crystal.
A middle-aged man cheering enthusiastically at the students’ match came into view.
“Yes. There’s something oddly out of place about it.”
-Make contact with him.
Kassan placed his hand on the spectator’s shoulder.
Thud.
“He has substance. It’s not a mere intangible illusion.”
-As expected. Apply pressure and observe his reaction.
Kassan poured tremendous force into his grip.
Crunch—
The strength was enough to dislocate a shoulder, yet the spectator showed no sign of pain and continued laughing, still cheering at the match.
“…Damn it.”
-I can guess without seeing. It matches Case 6 from the incidents Ever Kire caused. Analysis is complete. Give me your coordinates.
The moment Kassan relayed his coordinates over the crystal.
Whoosh.
A smooth Magic Circle unfurled in midair, and a bag dropped down with a soft thud. It was one of Aleister’s abilities.
Inside lay a handle with a switch.
-It’s an Illusion-Piercing Artifact.
Shink.
When Kassan pressed the switch, a blade of mana erupted from the handle.
-Can you sense Holiness?
“Yes, as long as a Priest isn’t deliberately hiding it.”
Kassan rolled up his sleeve and exposed his arm. The hair on his arms stood on end, then began to curl.
-Excellent. I’ll tell you what you need to do. We’ll depart at once.
After hearing Aleister’s instructions, Kassan immediately dashed into the center of the Arena.
Despite his sudden intrusion, the spectators continued to ignore him entirely.
‘There. The place where Holiness feels strongest!’
Kassan raised both arms and extended his nails. Drawing in all the Darkness he could command, he swung toward the statue of water pouring in the Arena.

Shwaaaaaaack!
As the crossed blades of an X-mark tore through the air, the Arena’s scenery warped and distorted.
And through the rift that opened—
Whoosh.
He threw the Artifact. Its blade spun rapidly as it drove into the gap.
Crack-crack-crack-crack-crack-crash!
As the statue crumbled, Kassan witnessed it.
‘This is…!’
The veil of distortion lifted, revealing an empty arena where not a single soul could be felt.
Signs of chaos were scattered everywhere—objects strewn about haphazardly, the spectator stands scorched and blackened, the ground itself scarred.
“Ever Kire took Simon and the people here somewhere else.”
Screeeeeeeeeech!
Screeeeeech!
Black Magic Circles began etching themselves across the arena floor.
Kassan stepped back and waited. The moment the circles were complete, a crowd of people burst forth from within.
“Good work, Kassan.”
It was Aleister and his subordinates. Aleister’s face was crimson, sweat pouring down his temples as he gasped for breath—an expression entirely unlike him.
“What happened?”
“We were a step too late. Ever Kire has already taken Simon, the Second Saint, and the spectators through to another branch point.”
“I’ve never encountered an anomaly like this before.”
Even as he paced irritably, Aleister scattered Black Magic Circles in all directions.
This was no mere act of frustration.
Simply by observing the color of the Black Magic Circles, Aleister discerned with precision the exact positions and formulaic structures Ever Kire had employed in this arena.
“An unprecedented adversary. What’s done is done, but we must do what we can. This may be our only window for a counterattack.”
Aleister’s expression grew serious.
“We have to help those on the other side somehow… Kassan, what are you doing?”
Kassan was sniffing around the rubble of the Balkeje statue that his own technique had toppled, rummaging through the debris.
He extracted something from the wreckage.
“It appears to be an invincible anomaly.”
What he held up was an artifact radiating holiness.
Kassan’s eyes gleamed with terrible intensity.
“But it must have a weakness.”

* * *
At the same moment.
Another Rocksum was a paradise of stars.
Above the floating island, stars poured down from east and west, colliding and detonating again and again.
“Ugh!”
Rette, fighting with both arms stretched wide, staggered with a pained cry.
She glanced to her side and shouted.
“Simon! How long are you going to sleep, you fool? Wake up already… Ah!”
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
A single star unleashed by the goddess plummeted beside Rette, carving out a colossal crater. She tumbled helplessly across the ground from the shockwave.
Sigh.
Rising from the soil, Rette’s expression went hollow. Her holiness was all but depleted—there was nothing left to summon even a single star.
Above all, they couldn’t attack the goddess directly from this place.
Her trembling arms raised in defiance.
To think she would die in a foreign land like this, at the very heart of the Necromancers’ domain.
No—this wasn’t the time for weakness.
“There’s still more I can do…!”
Whooooooooosh!
As if responding to her resolve, a brilliant pillar of light erupted skyward from Simon’s body.
“Oh, really! Why did it take so long… Si…”
Her eyes widened.
“…mon?”
Simon’s body transformed.
His hair became pure white, and his eyes filled with golden light. His school uniform was swiftly replaced by robes of pristine white.
That was the Vestments of Sainthood—the very symbol of a saint.
And those vestments now cloaked the body of a Necromancer. Rette’s eyes flew wide open.
‘…Am I dreaming?’
Whoosh.
Swish.
Simon cast off his shoes and stepped barefoot onto the ground.
The sheer energy transmitted by that single act was immense. His bare feet drank in the holiness of the earth itself, as a tree’s roots draw water through the soil.
And he did not stop there. He swept his arm wide.
Pang!
Wheat fields across all of Rocksum trembled violently. Grains infused with holiness rose like fireflies, then began pouring down toward Simon.
Whooooooooom!
Simon’s body was engulfed in countless rays of light.
[What are you plotting!]
As Ever Kire cried out, the false goddess unleashed a torrent of stars upon Simon.
Simon did not evade. He simply raised his head, unflinching.
A deep resonance thundered through the air.
Then a massive barrier of Holiness unfurled before him. The stars that struck it shattered or bounced away.
“This is absolutely insane!”
Rette screamed in shock. That was unmistakably the “Barrier of the Earth”—the symbol of the Harvest Essence’s Saint.
A man. A Necromancer, no less. Wielding a Saint’s power.
It would almost be more rational to accept Ever Kire’s twisted world as reality than to believe what stood before them now.
A sharp metallic sound cut through the air.
Simon extended his arm backward. Holiness rippled through his grip, reshaping itself into a handle. It stretched endlessly to one side, until finally a massive blade materialized at its end.
A scythe forged from a substance that does not exist in the world. This pristine white blade was the manifestation of the Power Level that Simon drew forth through the Essence’s might.
The scythe, unable to bear its own weight, pierced through the ground itself, growing endlessly larger.
“Here I go.”
Simon, drawing all the Holiness unto himself, bent his knees.
And then.
The moment his feet left the ground, the very bedrock of Rocksum was torn away, and Simon vanished.
[…!]
Ever Kire’s head swiveled frantically, searching. The false goddess, too, rolled her eyes in every direction, trying to locate Simon.
“Don’t move.”
A sharp whisper.
The goddess’s body went rigid.
The boy with hair like white flames had perched upon the goddess’s shoulder.
One hand gripped the scythe’s handle, its blade lodged beneath her chin.
As though he were threatening to cut her throat.
[You dare!]
Ever Kire’s fury was absolute.
[Does a mere human presume to slay a god’s throat! And with Holiness, no less!]
The goddess’s arm rose to seize Simon.
“I said don’t move.”
Simon’s expression remained flat as he drew his arm.

It was silent.
The white scythe was pulled without a sound, without a trace.
A sharp metallic note.
The goddess’s throat, balanced upon the scythe’s blade, was severed.
Until it fell into the sea.
The world seemed to freeze. No one could move.
[No, noooooooooooo!]
The boy.
Had cut the throat of a living god.

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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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