Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 644

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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 644
Neftis Arkbold, ruler of the Dark Alliance.
Rette, drained of strength and slumped to the ground, found herself somewhat dazed by the woman’s sudden appearance. That was when Neftis’s gaze turned toward her.
Whoosh!
Rette reflexively summoned Holy Power. Seeing Neftis’s eyes narrow with interest, Simon quickly stepped in front of her.
“Neftis!”
“?”
“Rette—I mean, the Saint—she—!”
“I know. She was a great help in this affair.”
No hostility radiated from Neftis. She shrugged casually.
“I’ve already stopped Ever Kire and prevented a war. No point fighting a Saint now and undoing all that—besides, killing one just means another will emerge eventually.”
“Well, if you don’t kill me right here and now, you’ll regret it someday.”
Rette smiled with unmistakable defiance.
“When war breaks out again, I’ll be the first to draw my blade and take your head.”
‘What is she saying all of a sudden?’
Simon’s expression turned alarmed, but Neftis merely laughed, a low, amused sound, as if charmed by the boldness.
“Still so much time before that, little one.”
“And who exactly is calling whom little?”
As the two continued their exchange, the crow agent Aleister approached and whispered a report to Neftis.
She nodded in response.
“Yes, yes. Proceed with the closing ceremony as planned.”
“?!”
Simon was taken aback. Forge ahead with the closing ceremony in the middle of all this chaos?
What on earth was Neftis thinking?
“If you’re not too seriously injured, it would be good for both of you to participate as well. Then—”
Neftis raised her hand briskly.
“Goodbye!”
With those words, a Teleport Magic Circle that had already unfolded beneath Simon and Rette suddenly activated.

* * *
All events of the Dark Festival had concluded.
There were no major incidents. The Summoning Department failed to overtake the first-place Curse Department and settled for second, but compared to their habitual last-place finishes, it was a remarkable breakthrough.
And the match at Balkeje Arena, which was cut short just before the battle with Ever Kire, was declared void. Students who had participated were given appropriate Practical Assessment scores to avoid any penalty. Things were being tidied up quickly now that the closing ceremony was imminent.
Then there was the Ever Kire incident itself.
Most people still didn’t understand what had really happened. Only rumors circulated that competitors and spectators had collapsed for unknown reasons and been taken to the school Medical Ward.
The victims had regained consciousness safely in the Medical Ward, but retained no memory of the period after losing consciousness.
Simon and Rette had also been transported to the Medical Ward via Teleport Magic Circle and received treatment. Fortunately, they were only exhausted; there were no serious injuries. Simon lay in a Medical Ward bed, lost in thought.
‘Is Kizen planning to bury the Ever Kire incident?’
Certainly, it was an ideal opportunity to suppress the matter altogether.
The victims couldn’t clearly remember what had occurred, and only Aleister, Kassan, and Neftis’s other close associates knew the full details.
For the sake of bringing the Dark Festival—held only once every five years—to a successful close, the adults with calculators in hand had likely concluded that it was best to let the noisy Ever Kire incident sink from sight.
But was that the right thing to do? Simon’s head was churning with conflicting thoughts.
Click.
“How are you feeling, student?”
The Medical Ward Doctor came to check on Simon’s condition.
Being part of Neftis’s faction, he was aware of the situation. Simon emerged from his reverie and sat up properly.
“I’m fine! And the Saint?”
“The Saint who came with you seems to be doing well too, except she’s refusing treatment from the Medical Ward’s Dark Element-based healing…”
“I see.”
“Don’t worry too much, though.”
The Medical Ward Doctor scratched his head as he added this.
“We’ve taken appropriate measures.”

* * *
Great Healing.
Whoooosh!
Rette’s wounds gradually began to close. Rette bore the pain in silence and turned her head.
“So it’s you.”
The one treating her was an elderly man in spotless white robes, his long white beard grown full and flowing.
“The traitor Parahan.”
“…….”
“I hear he was once a bishop of Efnel, and now teaches necromancers here in Kizen.”
Parahan finished treating Rette in silence, then lowered his hands. A moment later, he placed his palm over his shoulder and chest, tracing the sign of the cross.
“Gratula mi kivilis. I have the honor of standing before the Goddess’s most beloved daughter.”
“…….”
Rette exhaled softly.
“You betray the Goddess and join the Dark Alliance, yet still trace the holy sign and show deference to a Saint. How curious.”
“I did not betray the Goddess—I betrayed Efnel. I offer prayers every single day.”
Parahan believed in the Goddess Deva’s existence, but he held that Efnel distorted the divine will to maintain its entrenched power and sate its own worldly desires.
“Of course, I don’t imagine the Saint could accept such reasoning.”
“No. That story you just told—”
Rette continued, her expression cool and unimpressed.
“It’s textbook heretical logic.”
Rette had heard such words recently, in fact.
—It is not yet too late, child. Open your eyes. Cast aside the teachings of Efnel that blind you, and serve my revelation instead.
From Ever Kire himself.
Now, even the thought of that fanatic made her skin crawl.
“Ever Kire suffered from delusions of grandeur—believing himself equal to the Goddess—and he possessed an Anomaly that could make those delusions manifest as reality. With that power, he drove Kizen to the brink and even fabricated a false god.”
“…….”
“The only difference between you is a matter of degree. Your convictions run along the same line as his.”
She fixed him with a fierce golden gaze.
“Under the pretense of opposing the Efnel regime, you’ve crawled into the ranks of those who wield demonic power. I find that equally monstrous.”
Rette had thought her rebuke harsh enough, yet the old man remained unmoved. He merely smiled gently, stroking his long beard.
His eyes—deep as the sea itself—seemed to hold countless sorrows and reflections, as though they had passed through ages of contemplation and emerged into enlightenment. Rette found herself taken aback by their depth.
“Then offer me your rebuttal.”
It was Rette, strangely, whose composure had begun to fray.
“First, I do not deny the Goddess as that fanatic did, nor do I presume myself equal to her.”
Parahan spoke at last.
“Furthermore, the Goddess has never decreed that Necromancers are evil to be destroyed.”
Rette jolted upright.
“What nonsense! It’s clearly written in the Scripture!”
“But humans recorded the Goddess’s words, and what has been passed down to us is the Scripture—shaped by countless interpretations and revisions favoring those in power. According to the original texts the Pope possesses, Deva has mentioned demons, yes, but she never decreed that Necromancers are enemies or demon-worshippers.”
“Even so—!”
“Even granting that the Dark Element is demonic power, Necromancers do not worship demons. What they worship is—”
Parahan placed his hand over his heart.
“Themselves alone.”
“……!”
“They are simply human, like us. They adopt efficient means to grow stronger and advance without end. That the Dark Element is demonic power, that those who wield it worship demons—these are merely Efnel’s claims. Our true enemy lies elsewhere.”
Rette’s expression grew complicated.
“……Nonsense.”
After a moment’s thought, Rette dismissed it as rambling, yet Parahan smiled softly.
“Still, you are the first Priest—the first Saint—to listen to my words with such depth and gravity. Usually, people dismiss me as a mad old fool and won’t hear me out at all.”
She shook her head slowly.
“One last question, then.”
“Ask away.”
“Do you have any regrets?”
Parahan answered not with words but with a knowing smile.
Light and unburdened, yet warm.
That smile was answer enough.

* * *
The Dark Festival’s closing ceremony took place that afternoon.
Before the ceremony began, there was considerable talk about the sixteenth arena and those who had lost their memories. But the moment the splendid ceremony started, all eyes turned to the spectacle.
And as Neftis had suggested, both Simon and Rette attended.
Simon had to participate as Student Council President, while Rette came along for the novelty of it all. Aleister’s side had provided a spacious VIP section, so they were able to watch comfortably from their seats.
Soon, Vice President Jane and the elders of the Dark Alliance took to the stage for speeches before the vast crowd. Important highlights of each student’s performance were displayed on the Mana Screen.
Then came the crucial Student MVP Awards.
A ceremony honoring the student who had demonstrated the most outstanding performance throughout the Dark Festival.
The Third Year MVP went, without question, to Ballak, who ranked second overall and served as the Department Representative of Poison Studies.
And the Second Year MVP was—
“2nd Year Student Council President, Simon Polaentian!”
Roooaaaarrrr!
Amid the thunderous cheers, Simon lifted the enormous trophy alongside Ballak for the commemorative photograph. The poison fumes seeping from his mask made it difficult to hold his breath.
‘Ah.’
He spotted Rette in the VIP section.
Though she wore a hooded robe, he recognized her at once. She clapped her hands in genuine joy, and Simon smiled back.
The awards ceremony concluded.
“Ahem.”
Seiwir, who was emceeing the closing ceremony, cleared his throat and spoke in a solemn voice.
“Chancellor Neftis of Kizen is now entering! Students and guests, please rise from your seats.”
Everyone in the hall stood.
Step— step—
Against the heavy silence, the measured sound of footsteps announced Neftis’s arrival.
She had not appeared at the opening ceremony, yet now she came in person for the closing.
‘Neftis.’
Simon watched her from backstage, his gaze fixed on her figure.
A broadcast attendant came scrambling over and set a wooden box beneath the podium. Neftis climbed it nimbly, cleared her throat, and spoke.
“Right, everyone sit down.”
“Please take your seats.”
Only after Neftis finished speaking did the crowd settle. She gripped the Amplification Crystal and opened her mouth.
“Thank you all for gracing the Dark Festival to its conclusion. The reason I’ve come here today is—”
Her mouth hung open.
“Because I wanted to speak with you about the future of the Dark Alliance.”
A major announcement.
The entire hall tensed in an instant.
“First, there’s been plenty of talk and rumor, hasn’t there? The sixteenth arena. And the spectators and students who lost their memories. To cut straight to the point.”
Her eyes grew cold and sharp.
“Kizen was attacked by a fanatic who deserted the Sacred Federation.”
Murmur— murmur— murmur!
Fanatic.
Because they were currently the most sensitive topic and threat to the Federation, the audience’s murmuring grew louder by the moment.
“The name of the fanatic who invaded us is Ever Kire. He possesses an extremely dangerous supernatural ability—one that distorts reality itself, turning what never happened into what did, deceiving everyone around him. Those who were in the arena at the time won’t remember it, but a fierce battle unfolded over Rocksum. And in the hidden struggle that raged beneath the surface—”
Her blue eyes swept across the spectators.
“We discovered the existence of a new Legion Commander.”
!!
The hall rippled like waves. A fanatical attack, and now suddenly a new Legion Commander? The story was spiraling into completely unforeseen territory.
The Necromancers participating in the Dark Festival in particular exchanged grave whispers among themselves.
“That’s impossible, isn’t it? A new Legion Commander?”
“All six positions are already filled. Unless there’s an Ancient Undead we don’t know about, or unless a new administrator suddenly appears…….”
Hmph.
Neftis smiled knowingly and brought the Amplification Crystal to her lips.
“We have confirmed the existence of the administrator of the 7th Legion—which was believed to be utterly destroyed—the Ancient Undead Pier, once known as the ‘Master of Fear.'”
!!
“Yes.”
Neftis’s voice grew forceful.
“The Legion of Betrayal has returned.”

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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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