Necromancer Academy’s Genius Summoner - Chapter 9

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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 Prodigy – Episode 9
The classes that followed were a relentless gauntlet.
Second period was Holy Defense Studies, third was Blood Flow Studies, and the professors all called Simon—the Special Admission rank one student—to the lectern to test him.
It was tradition. The truth was, at Kizen, competition among students was fierce, but so was competition among the professors themselves.
Teachers with poor performance records were dismissed mid-semester; salaries fluctuated with results, and influence within Kizen shifted accordingly.
Because of this, professors competed aggressively to secure promising students in their specialties, and especially sought to recruit the best ones as direct disciples.
As part of that drive, the first class was where they tested the strongest students’ abilities—and it was only natural that Simon, the Special Admission rank one, would be called to the lectern.
For both lessons, Simon found himself facing a female student named Meilin Billenne.
She ranked first in Class A and, looking across the entire first-year cohort, held one of the highest entrance examination scores. By written assessment alone, she was practically first in the school—a true prodigy.
There was no chance Simon, who had only just begun studying Black Magic, could defeat her. He’d managed to land a blow or two against Hector, but against Meilin, there was no contest to speak of.
Faced with this unexpected turn of events, the professors exchanged puzzled glances, and the other Class A students finally realized that Simon was a beginner.
‘Sigh…’
He’d pushed through three classes without rest. Fortunately, the next lesson ended slightly early, leaving him a brief window of respite.
Simon lay sprawled alone across a table in the empty café, recovering.
‘Classes are fun, but they’re absolutely exhausting.’
He hadn’t known school could be this grueling. Especially after pouring everything he had into the fight with Hector.
Simon let out a groan and rested his head on his arms.
“Hey there.”
As he was catching his breath, someone approached and greeted him.
He looked up to see a boy with short blond hair and sunglasses pushed up onto his forehead, grinning down at him.
“I’m in Class A with you. Name’s Dick Hayward.”
“…Simon Polentia.”
The two exchanged a light handshake.
“You’ve already become famous, you know. Your name’s being thrown around in other classes too.”
Simon shrugged.
“Probably people saying the Special Admission hype is deflating.”
“Ha ha ha!”
Dick laughed aloud and dropped into the seat across from him.
“Actually, you’re being completely normal. It’s only your first day and everyone’s making such a fuss over nothing.”
“Thanks for the encouragement, at least.”
Dick’s expression grew a touch more serious as he interlaced his fingers.
“You know what? Hector’s already building his own faction.”
“…Faction?”
“He made quite an impression in the first class, right? It’s natural students would be drawn to him. Plus he’s the eldest son of a prominent house, so he’s popular among the nobility.”
Simon rested his chin on his hand with a neutral expression.
“I’m not really interested.”
“Hold on, listen—at Kizen, ‘politics’ matters too! If Class A falls entirely under Hector’s sway, what happens then? Anyone who crosses Hector is finished. You’ll struggle to even find classmates willing to work with you on group projects.”
That changed things. Simon straightened up.
“You seem quick to read these kinds of situations. So why aren’t you with Hector? Why are you here instead?”
Simon had struck at the heart of it, and Dick’s expression faltered slightly.
‘Deceptively sharp, despite that innocent look.’
Dick laughed awkwardly and scratched the side of his head.
“I’m a commoner, actually. Merchant family.”
He rose from his seat and bowed with formal courtesy.
“If a mere commoner has been disrespectful, I beg your pardon, sir.”
“…Don’t do that. I heard everyone’s equal as first-years at Kizen.”
Dick settled back into his chair with a satisfied smile.
“Well, that’s the theory, but some students really can’t help flaunting their noble status.”
“Not me.”
“That’s a relief. Actually, I have a proposal for you.”
Dick extended his hand.
“Join my faction, Simon.”
“…?”
“Whether your skills hold up or people call you hype, the fact remains you’re the Special Admission rank one—that’s undeniable. The gap in self-study progress might seem huge now, but it’ll eventually level out anyway. Neftis wouldn’t have brought you here as Special Admission without reason, would she? You have value.”
Simon smiled broadly.
“Forget about factions and all that.”
“…?”
Simon extended his hand toward Dick’s.
“How about just being equal friends instead?”
Dick let out a short laugh.
“……Wow, that’s an awfully strange thing to hear.”
Here in Kizen, there were still people who proposed friendship instead of alliances or factions—Simon found it almost quaint.
Honestly, it was a bit rustic.
Cringeworthy, even.
And yet, surrounded as he was by calculating pragmatists, Simon’s approach felt oddly refreshing.
Dick reached out and clasped Simon’s hand firmly.
“Sometimes sentiment like this isn’t so bad.”
“……Ha.”
For Simon too, befriending a student who understood Kizen so well and possessed such political acumen was far from undesirable.
The two of them rose from their seats with a light handshake and began moving toward the lecture hall for their next class.
“What’s next period again?”
“Hold on.”
Dick pulled out his notebook and flipped it open.
“Oh, Summoning Studies.”
Simon’s eyes lit up at those words.

* * *
Simon and Dick arrived at the lecture hall without delay.
Unlike the awkward silence of the first class, the atmosphere had loosened considerably—students chattered comfortably with friends they’d grown close to.
True to Dick’s words, four male students surrounded Hector, laughing raucously. But when Simon passed, their laughter turned into stifled sneers.
“Oh look, Special Admission Number One walks by.”
“The biggest bubble in Kizen’s history.”
“How does someone like that beat out Sterne, Chatelle, and Loraine?”
They continued their jeering, but Hector at the center of the group remained silent. He merely glanced at Simon before turning away.
“Don’t mind them, Simon.”
Dick said.
“No point listening to gossip-mongers.”
Simon sat down with an expressionless face and pulled his Summoning Studies textbook from his bag.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“……Huh?”
“The Summoning Studies class.”
Simon’s eyes were gleaming brightly. He showed no sign of being bothered at all.
Dick chuckled quietly.
‘He really is different, isn’t he.’
Shortly after, the bell signaling the start of class rang. Students hurried back to their seats.
Scrape. Scrape.
The sound of dragging footsteps came from outside the lecture hall.
The professors they’d encountered so far—including Vahil, who taught Curse Studies—had all been impressive enough to leave one’s jaw hanging. The students waited eagerly to see who would enter.
Click.
The classroom door finally opened, and a man in his early thirties walked in.
His hair was disheveled as if he’d just woken up, his stubble rough from days without shaving, his loose shirt and shorts paired with worn slippers.
Simon wondered if this was just a neighborhood man who’d wandered into the wrong classroom.
The other students felt the same. After seeing the neat, sharp appearance of the professors so far, this was quite a shock.
The professor dragged his slippers up to the podium at the front of the lecture hall.
“I’m Aaron, and I’ll be teaching Summoning Studies for this semester.”
His lazy voice filled the classroom.
Aaron walked to the blackboard and slowly wrote out the words “Summoning Studies.”
With one hand thrust into his pocket and the other writing, his back exuded pure indifference to the world—yet a few female students whispered to each other with flushed cheeks, apparently finding this apathetic coolness appealing.
“Summoning Studies is the root of Necromancy, and perhaps history itself. Scholars won’t admit it, but our origins—grave keepers, tomb robbers, and the corpse-obsessed—are hard to deny.”
Aaron set down his chalk with a sinister smile.
“Anyway, if you have ears, you’ve probably heard plenty of stories about Summoning Studies. That it’s outdated, that it’s undervalued, that it’s difficult to study and has too many handicaps.”
Several students nodded as if in agreement.
“All those prejudices you’ve picked up……”
Simon felt his heart beginning to race. Other students swallowed hard, waiting for Aaron’s next words.
“Most of them are true.”
“……?!”
Simon questioned his own ears.
What was this Summoning Studies professor saying?
Aaron continued his explanation in that same lazy tone.
“In your previous classes, I imagine you heard talk about how wonderful our major is, why you simply must study it—that sort of thing. Personally, I disagree. Students should be able to make informed choices, so I’ll make sure you understand both the advantages and disadvantages clearly.”
Aaron approached the blackboard again and picked up a piece of chalk. The students gripped their pens, ready to take notes.
“The first disadvantage of Summoning Studies.”
Simon let out a wry laugh.
Starting with the drawbacks, are we?
“Summoning Studies is expensive.”
Aaron wrote the words across the blackboard, then turned to face the class.
“This isn’t just idle talk. No matter what you imagine, Summoning Studies consumes far more in material costs than you’d expect.”
Silence fell suddenly over the lecture hall.
“The material costs for Summoning Studies alone could exceed the combined costs of every other subject. And that makes sense—are you going to kill your neighbor every time you need to create a Skeleton or Zombie? Raid villages? Hunt down and slaughter animals one by one? Of course not. Modern Necromancers use Skeleton sets or specially treated corpses that can be converted directly into Zombies. And even the Undead created this way are mostly single-use.”
Several students’ expressions darkened. The commoner students in particular visibly paled.
“It’s not uncommon for the material costs of combat to exceed the mission’s reward. If you’re going to specialize in Summoning Studies, abandon any hope of making money. And second.”
Aaron wrote the next point on the board.
“Heavy dependence on Summoned Creatures. Well, that’s obvious enough. Summoning Studies is a discipline fought through Summoned Creatures.”
Aaron raised his arm holding the chalk and circled the word “dependence” several times.
“When a Summoned Creature is destroyed, a Summoner’s combat effectiveness drops by eighty percent or more.”
“……”
“Especially nowadays, many rely not on disposable Undead but on their own semi-permanent Undead, refined and rebuilt countless times. But what happens if that Undead is destroyed in wartime?”
Aaron’s mouth twisted upward.
“While your classmates in the field are spreading maps and earnestly discussing tactics, imagine yourself—the one who lost your Summoned Creature—just sitting there twiddling your thumbs.”
Simon felt increasingly dumbfounded.
Does he really say things like this? Is this guy actually a Summoning Studies professor?
“And this dependence ties directly into the first disadvantage.”
Aaron drew a line from the circled word “dependence” to “expensive.”
“Losing your primary Summoned Creature deals a fatal blow—both to your combat strength and your finances. You’ll spend a long time scraping together money just to rebuild your power.”
A thick stillness descended over the lecture hall.
“And finally, the third disadvantage.”
Aaron wrote the words on the blackboard and smiled, baring his teeth.
“This one matters most.”

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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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