Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 698

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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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Necromancer School’s Summoning Genius — Episode 698
Simon explained to Serne what had happened in the Northern Region.
At first, he recounted mainly the course of events that had led to the liberation of the North, but she, who had been listening quietly, narrowed her eyes like a fox.
“I think an important part of the story is missing, don’t you? Why would our 7th Legion Commander travel to such a distant and frozen land just to meet the 2nd Legion Commander?”
……
There seemed no point in trying to hide anything from someone who saw right through him. In the end, Simon told her the truth, and she nodded with evident satisfaction.
‘Fascinating.’
Serne sipped her juice, her eyes closing briefly.
‘First the Deathland, now the Frost Field — both falling under the 7th Legion Commander’s hand. I wonder if Simon understands what this means.’
Originally, the Frost Field held no strategic value whatsoever. It was a place controlled by the current Legion Commander, the Northern Grand Duke, who kept it tightly sealed.
But now the Grand Duke and Carlos’s Northern Forces had become Simon’s reliable allies.
If needed, Simon could move the North God to bring the Frost Field’s armies down to the continent below. The Grand Duke would open the way without hesitation.
What had been a meaningless force had become a meaningful one.
And if both the armies of the Deathland and the armies of the Frost Field could move simultaneously?
Territories that would fall within firing range by geopolitical position.
Factions that would have no choice but to face strategic pressure.
Multiple configurations rose and fell rapidly in Serne’s mind. She found it deeply satisfying.
‘If only I could get that person under my control.’
She regarded Simon with half-lidded eyes. For a moment, a chill swept across his skin.
“That settles it, then?”
“Well, now what shall we do with this shameless pervert who walked into my room uninvited?”
Simon’s expression turned guilty.
“Wait, that’s not what we agreed on! You said it would all be over once I told you everything.”
“My, I don’t recall saying any such thing.”
She laughed lightly and waved her hand.
“Someone like you, Simon, wouldn’t fall for the same trap twice anyway. Besides, seeing my body should cost you the price of several kingdoms, shouldn’t it?”
“I didn’t see anything!”
Besides, she was the one who’d set the trap in the first place, and yet she’d covered everything anyway.
As Simon glared with a flushed face, she laughed and snickered.
“All right, all right. In exchange—”
She pointed the tip of her pale, slender finger toward Simon’s forehead.
“Promise me that, in a day or two, you’ll keep hidden from Lorain Arkbold the fact that you’ve taken hold of the North God. How does that sound?”
Simon’s expression grew dull at those words.
“If your intention is to check Kizen, wouldn’t Neftis already know anyway? It was Neftis who sent me.”
“Oh, that’s not my intention at all.”
“Then what’s the reason?”
She rested her chin in her hand and smiled.
“Self-satisfaction?”
I know something Lorain doesn’t know.
For now, that’s enough.
Such a cheap price, isn’t it? Even as Serne finished speaking, she thought to herself that she was being far too merciful.
“The price has already been paid.”
Simon rose from his seat.
“I don’t want to lie to Lorain separately.”
“Oh.”
Serne blinked her eyes.
Remarkable. Did he know how to raise his own value?
Of course, Simon wasn’t the type to worry over such trivial matters.
Integrity.
If he’d told her the truth, he’d tell the other side the truth as well.
‘Different.’
Those with feathers couldn’t act that way.
Humans always look only at the situation before them and judge accordingly, moving forward. If they merely ended up ordinary, that would be fortunate enough — but they invariably make critical mistakes at decisive moments and plummet into the abyss. That’s why Serne chose simply to remove variables through feathers.
If only everyone thought and acted as carefully as Simon.
What would it be like then?
“Then shall we add another card I can offer?”
She flicked the edge of the towel wrapped around her body with a snap.
“Wait!”
Simon’s face flushed to its absolute limit.
He couldn’t afford to fall any further into her game.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she thrust out her arm. The bones she’d stuck to her clothes flew free, shattering the window open, and Simon hurled himself through.
“Oh my?”
Serne walked to the window. Simon, his escape successful, plummeted downward and shouted back.
“See you in class tomorrow!”
Then he vanished.
She let out a dismissive snort.
“Who does he take after, being such a scatterbrain?”
She peeled off her towel carelessly. Underneath was just a sleeveless top and shorts.
Serne padded lightly across the room, tied up her wet hair in the mirror, and got ready for bed.

* * *
The next morning arrived.
Simon, hollow-eyed, rode a Golem Board to school alongside his roommate Toto.
“Simon! You okay?”
Toto, perched behind him, leaned forward.
“You look rough. Was the Special Class that brutal?”
“No, it’s just… I didn’t sleep much last night.”
Last night had been a whirlwind. He’d fallen into Serne’s trap, rushed straight into Pier’s Ruins afterward to collect Undead for the Legion, came home and barely skimmed a few pages of his textbook before collapsing into bed.
In his dreams, Serne kept diving at him, feathers pinning him down.
‘Ugh, I’m exhausted.’
In that half-awake state, he’d piloted the Golem Board to class on autopilot.
His first class since returning from the Northern Region was Aaron’s “Intermediate Summoning Studies.” Today brought the Practical Assessment for crafting Arachnia, a spider-type Undead.
The assessment would take place outdoors. Tables stretched out in neat rows—one per student—while Instructors bustled about, setting up materials.
“Simon!”
The moment he arrived, an energetic voice called out.
A head of mandarin-orange hair popped up from below. It was Eshu, from Group 10.
Simon waved back warmly.
“Hey, Eshu.”
“Hi! And hey to you too, Toto!”
Eshu waved at Toto, who stood awkwardly behind Simon. His ears turned crimson as he managed an awkward wave and “Oh, hey.”
Eshu spun back toward Simon with a grin.
“I’m so glad you made it back! Though you’re later than expected from your return date?”
“Things got complicated on the ground.”
“It was chaos back in the Department too! When Aezel came back, everyone was wondering if you’d become the next ‘Aezel’—if you know what I mean!”
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Simon laughed dryly. Kizen had a constant churn of strange slang and jargon that came and went, giving him a headache.
“Ah.”
Just then, a familiar face approached from Simon’s side.
Aseraz Mikel—ranked fifth overall.
They weren’t particularly close, but since their eyes met, Simon tried to raise his hand in greeting. Instead, she coldly turned away and walked past without acknowledgment.
“That girl, honestly.”
Eshu clicked her tongue and lowered her voice.
“You know what happened while you were gone? Everyone kept talking about you and worrying, but Aseraz—she straight-up said she’s glad you’re not here because she moves up a rank without you around.”
Simon laughed dryly again.
“Well, Kizen runs on merit alone, so that tracks.”
“Anyway.”
Eshu stepped back and wore a mischievous smile.
“The person who worried most about you not coming back was Hector—”
“Maybe you should worry more about your own mouth, Eshu.”
Eshu yelped and scrambled backward.
Hector’s broad-shouldered frame came into view, flanked by his faction’s students, who were giggling amongst themselves.
Eshu’s face flushed crimson. She quickly greeted him.
“Oh, hello! Department Rep…! Hehe.”
Hector cast her a cold, indifferent glance and clicked his tongue dismissively.
“!”
Eshu’s shoulders trembled at the chill. The single strand of hair that had been standing up on her head drooped dejectedly.
Toto, behind Simon, seemed to wilt in sympathy.
Hector’s gaze shifted to Simon.
“Did you prep well for the assessment last night?”
Simon scratched the back of his head.
“Truth is, I barely managed it.”
A smug smile curved at the corners of Hector’s mouth.
“You brought this on yourself. No matter how much you swagger around relying on nothing but talent, this time there’s no way out…….”
“Students! The Professor is arriving—please form ranks!”
At the Instructor’s call, the students who’d been clustered and chattering quickly fell into line.
And there came Aaron, the Summoning Studies Professor, flanked by two Instructors—his hair disheveled as always, dressed in his casual, baggy shorts.
He took his place and swept his gaze across the students standing before the table, then fixed it on Simon.
Simon gave a quiet nod in greeting, and Aaron answered with one of his own.
“As promised, today we’ll conduct the practical assessment on Arachnia. Until now you’ve been conjuring humanoid and animal-form Undead easily enough, but this will be your first time assembling arachnids—arthropods from the spider order. I expect most of you will struggle. Still, an assessment is an assessment.”
He turned away.
“No more talk. Let’s begin the practical assessment.”
Click.
He activated the Timer Clock in his hand.
“Start.”

* * *
Two hours later.
The evaluation of the practical assessment results commenced.
“……Simon Polentia.”
Standing before the Arachnia that Simon had created, Aaron let out a somewhat stunned laugh.
“A+.”
Ooooooh!
Exclamations of admiration erupted from various corners of the room.
Simon bowed with an embarrassed grin.
“Thank you.”
“You must not have had time to prepare properly for the practical assessment, what with your special classes.”
Simon answered while wiping beads of sweat from his forehead.
“……W-well, I suppose I was just a bit fortunate.”
Truth be told, Arachnia was nothing—a pittance compared to the upgraded version Erzsebet was developing in the Legion right now, the Corpse Spider.
The final rankings were as follows.
– 1st Place: Simon Polentia.
– 2nd Place: Hector Moor.
– 3rd Place: Aseraz Mikel.
– 4th Place: Guinevere Vennus.
Whoooosh!
In the distance, Hector, unable to contain his frustration, kicked over a table and hurled his materials aside, breathing fire. His faction’s students clung to him, trying desperately to restrain him.
“Caught by a feint, Hector.”
“That bastard Simon must have been studying all along.”
Hector had been in exceptional form today and had actually beaten even Aseraz Mikel, but he’d surrendered first place the moment Simon—newly returned—took the stage.
Aaron gestured to Simon to follow him for a moment, and Simon obeyed.
“The next class is also on spider-type Undead.”
Once they’d found a quiet spot, Aaron spoke.
“But I don’t think you’ll need it. I’ll use that time for lessons on the Bone Dragon instead. It’ll probably be a long-term project, but are you ready?”
Simon nodded with determined resolve.
“Yes!”
“Good.”
After that, they proceeded to an advising session with his professor.
They discussed Simon’s progress in Summoning Studies and exchanged some casual updates about his circumstances.
“Aezel Bringer, a third-year, has returned. How have you decided to handle the Student Council President position?”
“I’ll maintain the presidency until the midterm exams. After midterms, we’ll settle it with a duel.”
“……I see.”
At those words, Aaron’s expression grew thoughtful and complex.
Simon blinked, watching him.
“Why is that, Professor?”
“If you wish it.”
Aaron looked up.
“I could postpone the Bone Dragon lessons to the second semester and conduct classes on one-on-one dueling techniques instead.”
“Ah.”
Simon was touched that Aaron would take such particular care, and his expression softened with gratitude. Then he smiled lightly.
“I’m truly grateful for the offer, Professor, but I’ll be fine! We can’t let priorities get reversed, can we?”
In truth, creating a Bone Dragon is so difficult that there are Necromancers who sacrifice decades of their lives to it.
It’s not for nothing that it’s called the pinnacle of Summoning Studies.
Simon had promised Neftis he would create a Bone Dragon within his second year, so starting now, with the first semester nearly finished, felt somewhat rushed.
“If that is your resolve, I understand.”
Aaron nodded and rose from his seat.
“Return to your studies.”
“Yes! Thank you!”

* * *
That afternoon.
Snip— snip—
“…….”
Chehekle, the Senior Instructor of the Curse Department, wore the expression of someone who had seen every conceivable oddity under the sun.
Then she exhaled deeply and spoke.
“……Are you perhaps going on a blind date, Professor?”
Bahil stood before a large mirror, spritzing cologne over himself.
His outfit was far more refined than usual—an expensive suit tailored with care—and his shoes gleamed freshly polished. As he ran a comb through his hair, he caught his reflection and smiled.
“Nothing of the sort. It’s simply a supplementary lesson schedule.”
“But that’s my role as Senior Instructor.”
Bahil, who had tied a Necktie at his throat with practiced flair, responded smoothly.
“Even for someone as capable as you, Chehekle, there are some things I cannot yield on.”
‘What in the world has this man gotten into now?’
These were supplementary lessons, not regular classes. Nine out of ten professors left them to their assistants and went home—Bahil himself had always done the same.
So now he was taking one on himself?
“A one-on-one private lesson. Myself and Simon Polentia.”
He turned from the mirror, his smile weighted with meaning.
“Such an excellent opportunity—I simply could not pass it up.”
“……That’s nonsense. Among the special class participants, only four students are enrolled in your regular Curse Magic lectures.”
She waved the papers she’d set on his desk.
“I asked you to check the roster, didn’t I?”
“Ah, did you?”
Bahil turned his back.
“I don’t pay attention to the names of mediocre talents.”
‘……This lunatic.’
The man had clearly registered only Simon Polentia’s name.
Snip— snip—
Bahil spritzed cologne once more, his lips curling upward.
“Then I’ll leave the lectures for the other three mediocre students to you. As for Simon—bring him to my classroom in secret.”
‘……Are you serious!’
Chehekle’s arms trembled.
She felt an overwhelming urge to pull the resignation letter from her inside pocket and hurl it at that smiling face.

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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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