Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 657

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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 657
A thickly bearded northerner suddenly blocked the way ahead.
His face was familiar.
He was the same one who’d picked a fight this morning and bumped into him. Beside him stood three other northerners who appeared to be his companions.
“Well, well, is this really a man? What a pretty face you’ve got there.”
Each time he moved his mouth, the coarse brown beard covering his face quivered.
“Judging by appearances, I’d say you’re a fine gentleman who eats well and bathes often—what brings such a distinguished person to this humble place?”
“Obvious. There’s bound to be some scheme brewing in the north again.”
Simon let out a quiet sigh.
“What is your business?”
“Uh-haha-haha! Business? Listen to him, acting all aloof like a woman.”
The man’s heavily muscled shoulder jabbed roughly against Simon’s.
“I came to hear what sounds you make in bed. Does that count as business?”
“Kheh-kheh-kheh-kheh!”
Vulgar ruffians. Their quality was so low that dealing with them made his temples throb.
Simon ignored them and walked on.
“Hey, you’re just leaving like that?”
The men bellowed after him, cackling.
“That’s exactly the problem—you just keep running away! We all saw how you got turned down by the Grand Duke this morning!”
“Ha-ha-ha-ha!”
They were beneath his dignity. He had no desire to engage them.
If he lost his temper and beat creatures like these, wouldn’t he be lowering himself to their level?
Better to think of it as stepping in filth on the street.
“Master!”
Then he heard a voice calling from behind. Erzsebet came rushing toward him, carrying a wine bottle and a bag of fruit.
“Watch it!”
The Bearded Man lurched forward and grabbed Erzsebet’s wrist roughly. In the commotion, the bag she held tumbled from her grasp.
Fruit scattered across the ground, and with a sharp crack, the wine bottle shattered, spreading dark purple liquid across the street.
“Well, well—there really is a young lady here.”
“What? Let go of me!”
Unable to reveal her true identity, Erzsebet cried out, but the men surrounded her with leering grins.
“So you’re his servant? Calling that pathetic wretch ‘master’—southern folk sure live differently.”
“Hey, look here.”
Another man forcibly pulled back the robe she wore. Her scantily clad armor beneath lay exposed for all to see.
“Puh-ha-ha-ha! This is ridiculous!”
“You came to the north dressed like that? You must know how to have a good time, you little thing.”
Crunch.
The other man seized Erzsebet’s shoulder with brutal force.
“I like you. How about you come play with us for a while…….”
Crack!
“Huh?”
The sound of breaking bone rang out sharply.
The man’s head snapped down. His arm, which had been gripping Erzsebet, now twisted backward—his knuckles pressed against his own wrist.
“Ugh—uaaaagh!”
Thud!
He dropped to one knee, clutching his broken wrist. Between him and Erzsebet now stood a blue-haired boy, his eyes blazing with intensity.
“You bastard!”
“Ha!”
The man with the shattered wrist immediately threw a punch with his other hand, but—
Crack!
Simon’s knee slammed into his face, caving in his nose savagely. Blood sprayed in an arc as he staggered backward.
Whoosh!
The other man swung a brutal hook, but Simon merely extended his palm and deflected it smoothly, then closed the distance in a flash.
Shwing!
A blue arc seemed to slice through the sky before Simon’s boot connected with the man’s jaw.
As his feet left the ground, Simon grabbed the back of his head and slammed him violently into the pavement.
The man’s eyes rolled back and he went limp.
“You little shit!”
A straight punch came flying from behind. Simon flowed with the momentum, shifting his weight to his left foot, and tilted his head out of the way.
In one fluid motion, he caught the rough forearm as it streaked past his face and twisted his hips, driving the man hard into the ground.
Crash!
The ground split with jagged fractures, sending gravel flying into the air.
Within seconds, three burly men lay sprawled across the pavement.
“Huh? What are you?”
The Bearded Man who’d started the trouble flexed his knuckles with evident interest, popping each joint methodically.
“Looked like a weakling at first glance, but you know how to fight after all.”
He raised both fists, dark energy flowing from his hands—and Simon’s eyes narrowed at the sight.
‘Dark Element?’
“Right then—no need for words between men!”
Whoosh!
His body shot forward with brutal speed, like a beast pouncing on prey.
‘This time he’s weaving Dark Element into his footwork.’
The Bearded Man closed the distance in a single stride, raining punches down like madness. Simon simply leaned back, dodging each blow with a subtle shift of his shoulders.
‘And he’s mixing in Combat Magic too.’
He had no formal technique to speak of, but his brawling was honed razor-sharp by real combat. He was methodically herding Simon backward, cutting off escape routes, driving him toward the wall.
“Hahahaha! How long will you keep dodging like that!”
He laughed brutishly.
“Enough with cheap tricks—a real man should fight proper…… Hup!”
Crack!
Simon’s fist drove straight into his face. The man’s body shot backward like lightning, slamming hard into the wall.
“??!”
Rustle.
Simon’s outer robe fluttered gently back down. The angle of his legs, the movement of his shoulders, the perfectly extended arm—he’d drawn an ideally flawless straight-punch stance, now slowly lowering his fist to his side.
“You’re the one pulling cheap tricks.”
The man’s expression sobered as he saw the dark-blue force coiled around Simon’s knuckles.
“……So you were a Necromancer after all.”
Thud-thud-thud!
The Bearded Man pushed himself up through the swirling dust, blood streaming down his face. His legs were unsteady; the impact had been severe. He stumbled and fell flat again.
And then.
“Blegh!”
He spat blood onto the ground. Laughing hoarsely, he moved his hand to draw a symbol in blood—a Blood Magic Circle.
“Yeah, yeah. Now we’re getting serious.”
Screeeee!
The Blood Magic Circle activated. His clothes tore away like paper as massive tattoos burst forth across his entire body—black markings that now blazed a deep crimson red.
“Never thought I’d need this against another person!”
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!
Behind his back, something like a blood-red shark’s fin erupted. His eyes too burned a sickly red.
“Steel yourself! You won’t even have time to blink…!”
He wasn’t exaggerating.
Thwack!
Impact slammed the back of his head; his face plowed into the earth. The smell of soil filled his nostrils, along with a whiff of the wine Erzsebet had spilled earlier.
“Hack!”
A boy stood there as if out for a casual stroll, one hand casually pocketed, his expression utterly bored as he pressed his foot down onto the warrior’s skull.
‘……No, this isn’t…’
“Sorry, didn’t catch that.”
Simon spoke calmly.
“Steel yourself and what exactly?”
The Bearded Man’s eyes flared with fury.
“GRAAAAAHHH!”
He raised the shark fin on his back and violently hauled himself upright.
Crash!
“Gyaaahhh!!”
Trampled again. Simon rubbed his eyes with an expression of utter exasperation.
“What with the ‘graaah’? Come on, try again. You were about to do something.”
The Bearded Man realized it far too late.
That something.
No—that he’d made a very serious mistake.
“There.”
Simon graciously lifted his foot from the man’s skull and walked away. Then, at a short distance, he turned back and spread both arms wide.
“Go ahead. Try whatever you want.”
Crack!
A vein bulged across the Bearded Man’s forehead.
Six years since he’d taken up the axe as a warrior. Never had he tasted such humiliation.
“Southerneeeeer!”
Behind his back, fins rose up larger than ever before. Feeling the Dark Element surge through his entire body, he pushed off the ground and charged, hurling his fist forward.
He was certain—this was the greatest punch of his life.
Tap.
“!”
Simon’s slender index finger alone blocked the crude fist.
“Is that all?”
Simon murmured with boredom and withdrew his other hand from his robe pocket. Then he placed it against the Bearded Man’s forehead.
Snap!
He flicked him sharply on the brow.
A precise strike that lost not a single ounce of force.
The Bearded Man collapsed where he stood, eyes rolling back, foam at his lips.
“This… this can’t be…!”
The warriors sprawled on the ground trembled with fear.
To toy with a warrior who’d opened their Core like that.
“In the Northern Region, the victor can do whatever they please, correct?”
Simon brushed his hands clean and laughed. The warriors thought his laughter sounded like a demon’s.
“I’d like nothing more than to beat you all senseless, but out of respect for the Grand Duke, I’ll leave it at this. Let’s go, Erzsebet.”
Erzsebet, who had been watching with flushed cheeks, quickly nodded.
“Yes, master!”
Erzsebet hung from Simon’s arm, laughing merrily.
“How wonderful, how wonderful~ Thank you so much for saving me!”
“If you’d stepped in, you’d have lost a limb or two.”
“My, did I give myself away?”
The warriors could only watch in a daze as the two departed.
Strange people had come to the Northern Region.

* * *
In the evening, Simon rested while conversing with Erzsebet, and at dawn he lit a lantern and worked on his schoolwork.
The advanced training didn’t mean his Kizen coursework had stopped. There would be supplementary classes upon his return, but there was a daily quota of study he had to maintain.
After sleeping only a few hours, morning broke the next day.
Today, at last, the Grand Duke’s Legion Commander training would begin. Simon finished his assignments, ate breakfast at the inn, and arrived at the Inner Castle.
“Welcome.”
He entered the castle, greeted by the butler Godric, whose tone seemed somewhat warmer than on the first day.
“The Grand Duke awaits you in the office.”
“Thank you for letting me know.”
Simon climbed to the second floor and knocked on the office door.
“It’s Simon.”
He heard a voice from beyond the door telling him to enter.
“Then I’ll come in… oh!”
Simon was startled the moment he opened the door.
In the early morning, the Grand Duke was exercising, sweat pouring down her face.
One hand clasped behind her back, she pushed herself up and pulled herself down repeatedly, supporting her weight on just two fingers.
Whoosh—huff—
Each time her body moved, the muscles across her entire frame expanded and contracted.
It was plainly an enormous amount of exertion.
But what startled Simon more than that was—
‘Her attire…!’
This was the first time he’d seen her without the Black Full Plate Armor that was her trademark.
In this freezing weather, where rivers froze solid, she was exercising in extremely short shorts and a sports top that left her midriff bare.
“You’ve arrived. Impudent thing.”
She rose to her feet with an elastic, practiced motion.
Her forearms and thighs displayed ideally sculpted muscle. Combined with her defined, prominent abdominal muscles—it was the result of extraordinary discipline.
Simon found it difficult to meet her gaze and turned his head slightly as he spoke.
“G-good morning.”
“Mm.”
She picked up a metal dumbbell placed near the office and moved with it.
“Any trouble last night? With an outsider here, I imagine all sorts of ruffians came looking for a fight.”
The tone suggested she already knew.
Simon scratched his head with a wry smile.
“Well, there was a bit of a scuffle, actually……”
“I thought as much. The people here don’t merely dislike southern nobility—they despise them with a passion.”
Thud!
She set down the dumbbells.
“Feel free to beat those who crawl toward you senseless. I suspect once they see your strength, they’ll fall in line. But if things escalate beyond reason, report it to me.”
“Understood.”
The butler Godric, who had been waiting, brought water. After a long drink, she turned to Simon.
“First things first, boy. Before the lesson begins, I have questions for you. How long ago did you become a Legion Commander?”
“Not long after I became a Necromancer.”
“How many Ancient Undead do you command?”
Simon counted on his fingers.
“I have four Ancient Undead from the Former 7th Legion. In addition, I control an Ancient Undead-class Lich that I’ve Legionized. There was also the Plague Beast Blade, but its body crumbled, so I had to absorb it into Pier’s Great Sword.”
Hmm.
The Grand Duke nodded with evident satisfaction.
“Impressive. In such a short time, you’ve assembled a proper force.”
“It’s thanks to the help of many people.”
“Now, as for the Legion’s manpower……”
The Grand Duke’s expression turned sharp. She spun toward the window, fell silent, and strode swiftly from the room.
“Excuse me for a moment.”
“Ah, yes.”
She picked up the bow that had been leaning against the wall.
Its appearance was extraordinary.
Instead of a wooden bow, living shadows writhed around it like dark flame.
It carried much the same aura as Pier’s Sword of Ruin, and Simon suspected it was equipment reserved for those of her station.
Whoosh.
“Godric. The tenth window.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Only now did Simon notice how many windows the Grand Duke’s office had. It was a separate wing from the main castle, its ceiling dotted with more than twenty windows.
Bang!
The butler Godric raced over and threw open the window, then pressed himself flat against the floor. The Grand Duke spread her palm.
Uuuuuuuu!
With a sound like spectral wailing, shadows surged forth. As her fingers closed into a fist, the darkness took the shape of an arrow.
Without even glancing at her target, she nocked the arrow to the string with simple precision and released it.
Whoooooosh!
The air warped black around it, and something tremendous tore through space.
But she lowered the bow as if nothing had happened and looked at Simon.
“Now, back to what I was saying—the Legion’s manpower……”
“Wait, wait! What exactly did you just do?”
“Nothing extraordinary.”
She smiled slightly.
“Assassination.”

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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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