Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 653

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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 653
Four days later, Neftis pressed ahead with the Special Class.
Since the Special Class system itself wasn’t a curriculum meant to be rushed through immediately after the Dark Festival, several professors who wanted to accelerate the pace voiced their discontent—but Neftis remained resolute.
Until the Special Class began, Simon kept himself as out of sight as possible.
In particular, that journalist Wedian Bencinio was relentless. Whenever Simon spoke with someone, she’d pop out of nowhere and hammer away at the Mana Camera’s button.
“Found you! Simon Polentia! You were definitely having a secret talk with the Ancient Undead, weren’t you?”
……
Most recently, she’d jumped out from a garbage bin on the street.
The onlookers had reacted with ‘What’s that idiot doing,’ but truth be told, Simon’s blood had run cold more than once.
There were times when he’d converse with Pier’s Fragment through his mind, or receive Erzsebet’s routine reports via Corpse Spider, occasions when her timing had been uncannily sharp.
Of course, Simon hadn’t simply taken it lying down either. As Student Council President, he’d contacted the contest organizers to request that they stop forcing interviews with students outside the scope of the competition and violating their personal privacy—and they’d acquiesced.
But Wedian had persisted as though driven by some mission. Even when her superiors had disciplined her, she didn’t give up. She’d even broken out of her Lodging during quarantine measures.
Worn down by her obstinacy, Simon found himself counting the days until he could depart for the Northern Territory.
And today was finally the day.
Simon had arrived at Pier’s Ruins early in the morning.
“Is everyone accounted for now?”
“That’s right. We’re all set!”
It had been a long time since the Legion moved on this scale.
Pier, Erzsebet, Prince, Achemous, Herseba.
And their main forces had entered an oversized Subspace. They would all depart for the Northern Territory together.
As the troops moved, Pier completely sealed the entrance of the Ruins with a Barrier.
“That journalist won’t be able to open the Ruins, will she?”
Simon spoke with some concern, and Pier laughed heartily.
“At best, she’s just an ordinary person, not even a Necromancer. No need to worry, boy!”
After enduring so many instances of her popping up unexpectedly to stalk him, Simon felt as though he were developing a neurosis. He’d startle at the mere chirp of a passing bird.
“I come to report, Legion Commander.”
Rustle!
Erzsebet descended from a tree, hanging upside down from a web.
“That journalist entered the Forbidden Forest, and was caught in a spider trap laid by my children.”
Sure enough, her voice echoed from far away.
“Let me go! Release me! You think I’d give up just because of this?”
“Shall we kill her? We can erase the corpse without a trace from this world.”
Erzsebet spoke with a gleam of menace in her eyes, but Simon shook his head.
“If the journalist investigating me suddenly disappears, it’ll only raise more suspicion. Once we return from the Northern Territory and outsiders are no longer around, it should be fine.”
“As the Legion Commander wills, I shall obey.”
True, Simon felt anxious about it. It would be reassuring to leave one Ancient Undead here to guard the Ruins, but the reason they were heading north this time was for the Legion Commander Class.
If even one was absent, the meaning would be lost. The goal was to raise the capability of every Ancient Undead in this opportunity.
Simon opened the oversized Subspace one last time, allowing Erzsebet and Pier to enter, then moved forward.
“Let’s go—to the Northern Territory!”

* * *
The Northern Territory.
In the Dark Alliance, when people think of cold regions, the Shahid Kingdom comes to mind first. But since much of the Shahid Kingdom’s territory lies in the cold northern regions, it’s somewhat ambiguous to call it distinctly the “North.”
When the Dark Alliance mentions the “North,” the place that generally comes to mind for most continental peoples is Northern Kalos.
That famous bastion of human heroism—the fortress city of Bilkenos, guarded by the North’s Grand Duke, and the Frost Field.
The monsters and undead of the Frost Field are ferocious beyond measure. Powerful individuals exist that could burn down an entire territory in a short time, and in their hunger for human prey, they frequently invade human lands.
The frontline of humanity that holds back these cannibalistic monsters and undead, and a place that no army in history has ever conquered.
At the same time, a cold climate where farming is scarcely possible—a barren, troublesome land.
And it was there.
“Here it is!”
Simon had arrived.
The moment he opened his eyes at the final destination after passing through several Teleport Magic Circles, the sound of cart wheels rattling rang out.
It wasn’t the snow-covered, picturesque city that usually comes to mind when one thinks of the Northern Territory.
The ground was a damp, muddy path with patches of snow scattered about. The sound of pickaxes could be heard in places, and the smell of manure hung in the air. Rough-looking bearded men carrying axes or halberds walked past here and there.
The atmosphere, if expressed in one word, was ‘battlefield.’
It felt like entering a military camp. Everyone moved with urgency.
“Bigger than I expected.”
This was Bilkenos, the heart of Northern Kalos and the most developed city in the North.
Far in the distance, towering outer city walls embracing the entire city came into view, and beyond them lay the northern landscape Simon had imagined—white snowy mountains standing jaggedly against the sky.
Though beautiful at first glance, the thought of how many monsters and undead must teem within those mountains sent a chill down his spine.
‘Let’s go.’
The direction was already decided.
The largest building standing tall above the city.
The inner fortress at the center of Bilkenos. That’s where the Grand Duke lives.
Rustle—
Simon withdrew a letter from his coat as he walked. A letter sealed with Kizen’s seal. Neftis had even written it herself.
Simon recalled the conversation he’d had with her.
—Oh, by the way, I didn’t get permission from the Grand Duke to send you!
When he first heard those words, Simon felt his heart drop.
—So I’m going as an uninvited guest, not a guest?
This special class was officially part of Kizen’s curriculum, and it came with various conditions and missions to complete. If he just sat idle and wasted time, an expulsion-level handicap awaited him.
When Simon failed to hide his flustered expression, Neftis smiled broadly.
—Come on, don’t worry. You just need to earn the Grand Duke’s approval!
She said this and pulled out the letter.
—It might seem daunting at first, but once you win the approval of the Northern Territory and the Grand Duke, everything will smooth out, I promise? Here! Once you get the Grand Duke to read this letter, everything will fall into place!
Simon finished his recollection and carefully tucked the letter back into his coat.
Either way, the die was already cast—he had no choice but to meet the Grand Duke.
Truth be told, Simon was immensely curious.
He’d met several Saints of the Sacred Federation, but aside from Magnus, he’d never encountered any of the seven Legion Commanders who opposed them.
‘And they call him the hero of mankind.’
A legend who had guarded the Northern Territory for decades, holding back the expansion of the Frost Field—one of the continent’s most fiercely contested battlegrounds.
He wondered what such a man’s abilities and experience were like. He wanted to know what kind of person he was, what sort of Ancient Undead he commanded.
If by any chance the Grand Duke took a fancy to Simon’s Ancient Undead, they might have to fight, but Neftis and Pier had surprisingly agreed on one point: “He’s not that kind of man.” When those two drew such a clear line, it made Simon feel he could trust this person.
Thud!
Lost in thought as he walked, Simon suddenly collided with someone’s shoulder.
“Hey, you should watch where you’re going, kid!”
A burly man grinned wickedly, his eyebrows raised. In his hand, he carried a battle axe larger than his own torso.
His companions smirked as they passed.
‘Who are these people?’
Before Simon could respond, a group of undead soldiers surged past between him and the men.
Clatter!
Clatter-clatter-clatter!
More than twenty armored skeletons hurried along their path in haste. Simon’s attention was instantly drawn to them.
‘Wait—who’s controlling them?’
They weren’t natural undead. They were definitely under the command of some necromancer, but no matter how he looked, he couldn’t spot any necromancer nearby.
The undead moved as if following a predetermined route, marching steadily along the street.
‘Interesting.’
He wanted to investigate the secret of these northern undead, but finding the Grand Duke took priority. Simon suppressed his curiosity and resumed walking.
“Hey, Recker! You trying to demolish someone’s whole house?”
“Ah, my apologies!”
“Ha ha ha! Quite the spectacle in broad daylight!”
The people of the north all seemed to be descended from dwarves—broad-bodied, muscular, and hairy.
Beyond that, many races discriminated against elsewhere could be seen freely here. Feline beastmen leaped across rooftops in rapid succession, and a bovine-like beastman covered in fur caught sight of Simon and chuckled to himself.
Even as they moved busily about, they cast sidelong glances, aware that Simon was a foreigner.
“Excuse me, but which way should I go to reach the Grand Duke’s castle?”
When he posed the question cautiously, the beastmen scattered like wary cats suspicious of a stranger.
As he wandered through the muddy streets.
‘Ah.’
He’d finally reached the inner fortress.
For the castle of a man said to be second only to the King of Kalos in power, it wasn’t particularly ornate. Rough gray stone walls, tall pillars jutting up like mountain peaks, and decorative roosters hanging from the roof.
Simon stopped before the castle and hesitated for a moment.
‘Well, whatever happens, I’ll give it a try.’
The Grand Duke wouldn’t be waiting here for him anyway, and Simon decided to face this head-on.
Just as Simon moved toward the city gate.
Boooooo—!
Suddenly a horn blast echoed across the air.
The sound spread rapidly throughout the entire city, and from the residential areas came answering horn blasts.
Simon covered his ears.
‘What? What’s happening now?’
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!
The ground shook violently. Then came the growing clarity of hoofbeats—something black was pouring down the castle’s slope like an avalanche.
They were undead mounted on horseback.
‘Surely that’s not all Phantom Durahans?’
Above the Spectral Horses trailing dark aura like smoke, armored knights in black steel came into view.
Like Durahans, their necks were hollow and empty, and where their heads should have been, spectral flames rose up.
Those flames bore eyes, nose, and mouth reminiscent of jack-o’-lanterns. Long spears of immense size filled their hands, and the banners of the Northern Territory fluttered in countless places.
Clack!
Click!
Hundreds of undead cavalry arranged themselves with absolute precision—the sight was enough to raise every hair on one’s skin.
[Those aren’t ordinary Durahans—they’re a special type called Phantom Durahans!]
Pier explained.
[They don’t exist in nature; they’re born only from Ancient Undead. These must be the elite forces led directly by the Duke—an undead knight order that boasts an undefeated record!]
They certainly looked different from the ordinary Durahans made from Guardians.
Whoosh—
That was when an overwhelmingly massive knight astride a Spectral Horse clattered past at Simon’s side. Simon felt it at once.
‘An Ancient Undead!’
Simon broke into a cold sweat at the oppressive presence.
This being seemed to be the commander of the Phantom Durahans, but the hollow end of its severed neck was empty. Instead, the Spectral Horse’s face was that of a human.
The knight’s head attached to the horse’s body—it was quite grotesque.
The Ancient Undead took no notice of Simon and joined the troops. Soon the undead cavalry parted left and right like the parting of the Red Sea, raising their spears.
Clang!
Click!
As the spear points turned upward toward the sky, dark aura erupted from them. Each movement was precise and disciplined, like a wave of black undulating in motion.
Then figures emerged from both sides of the cavalry.
Clop-clop, clop-clop—
A person clad in Full Plate Armor without the slightest gap. The moment Simon saw him, the images of the Phantom Durahans and the Ancient Undead vanished cleanly from his mind.
An aura beyond all reason.
He wondered if this was truly a force a human could emit. Simply drawing near made the blood in his entire body seem to boil up inside him.
Without doubt, this was the famous Northern Duke, Jin Arskaldt.
[What is the situation.]
A cold voice came through the gap in the helmet.
“The enemy’s undead forces are attempting to enter Dondra, sir.”
[We will traverse to Dondra within the hour.]
Simon hesitated for a moment, but then clenched his eyes shut and resolved to go for it. This might be his only chance to meet him.
“Forgive me, but I must have a word!”
Simon approached the Duke boldly.
The Duke regarded Simon.
[Who are you.]
A cold, piercing light flickered between the gaps in the helmet.

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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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