Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner-Chapter 243: Episode

"Simon."

On the way to the ballroom, Lorraine approached him and spoke quietly. "Do you know about the tradition of this ball?"

Simon’s expression was one of complete ignorance. Princess Molly clapped her hands and interjected. "If you don’t mind, I’ll explain it myself!"

The tradition originated when the old Talhern Empire conquered the Dresden Kingdom and held a ball in their palace.

The event was meant to console the soldiers who had fought in the war, and it was said to have been terribly debauched. A large execution platform was set up in the center of the ballroom, and the king of Dresden was dragged to it in tattered clothes. It was the highlight of the evening. The Talhern Emperor personally operated the device and said:

—"State one final wish."

Of course, the emperor had no intention of granting it. This was merely a form of entertainment. Several royal prisoners had already met their end there, and the sight of those so-called noble bloodlines soiling themselves while begging for their lives was quite a spectacle. The emperor would laugh heartily and carry out the execution, providing a fine show for his guests. At the same time, he intended to teach the people of Dresden a lesson: that the rulers they revered were, in fact, pathetic, and that their conquest was inevitable. But the king of Dresden was different. He climbed onto the execution block himself, placed his head in the stock, and said:

—"Please provide three meals a day for my people."

Then, he activated the device himself. The emperor was genuinely impressed. He banned the indiscriminate looting and crime in the capital of Langerstine, halted the exploitation of the conquered nation, implemented relief policies, and even granted the kingdom partial autonomy. The royal family, who had been fated for execution, survived that banquet, and their bloodline continues to this day. To honor the king who sacrificed himself for his people, the royal family held a ball every year on the anniversary of Langerstine’s fall. During the ball, the royals who inherited the king’s blood could ask one ‘wish’ of their guests. Of course, the wishes were never excessive, related to money or property, or rude.

—"Lord Ronan, I am concerned for your health, so from this day forward, please quit smoking."

They were usually on that level.

It was an unspoken rule that both the one making the wish and the one receiving it should enjoy the moment, which was why so many people attended without feeling burdened. ’I see.’ Now that he knew the story, Simon saw the ball in a new light. He had initially thought it was just a lavish social event for the royal family to flaunt their connections and wealth, but it was actually a time-honored ceremony rooted in history. More than that, he was amazed that they had managed to sublimate the pain of their country’s fall and their king’s death into a tradition they could celebrate. ’I wonder what wish the princess will make.’

Soon, the three of them arrived at the ballroom doors. Princess Molly said, "I will enter last. You three may go in first."

"Understood."

Simon was staring nervously at the doors when Serne subtly sidled up next to him, holding out her slender hand. ’Why is she asking me to hold her hand again?’

When Simon didn’t move, Serne gave him a charming eye-smile and wiggled her fingers. "My arm hurts, Simon," she cooed. Serne had deigned to attend this tedious ball for one reason: to have her name and Simon’s mentioned together in front of as many influential people as possible. She had been planning to enter with him from the very beginning. Of course, Lorraine was not about to let that happen. She stepped between them and held Serne back. "Go on ahead, Simon."

Simon nodded gratefully and quickly moved toward the doors. Serne tried to follow, but Lorraine’s defense was impenetrable. "What are you doing! Let go!" "Only married couples enter together, so stop throwing a tantrum. It’s proper for students to enter one by one."

"Like I care!"

Lorraine’s only thought was to thwart Serne’s scheme. But after watching the devious Serne struggle to recruit Simon for the Ivory Tower, her perspective had shifted slightly. ’I want Simon to help me and work for Kizen even after graduation.’

Ultimately, she would have to respect Simon’s decision in two years, but she felt there was no need for Kizen, the undisputed top dog, to just stand by with its arms crossed. She was certain Simon would grow into a talent Kizen needed, so she decided to be more proactive. ’Simon to the Ivory Tower.’

’Simon to Kizen.’

While the two girls envisioned different futures, Simon, who had gone ahead alone, opened the ballroom doors and stepped inside. ’Woooow...!’

Everything glittered. He had never seen such a large and magnificent ballroom. It spanned three floors with an open atrium in the center, allowing guests to look down from above. Each floor offered a different theme of cuisine, and there was a vast, open space for dancing. Just then, the head butler, holding an amplifying crystal, announced loudly, "Entering, Sir Simon Polentia, the current Special Admission No. 1 student of Kizen from the Baldwin Kingdom!"

Applause rippled through the gathered nobles. The word ‘Kizen’ was peppered throughout their murmurs. Immediately after, the doors swung open again. "Entering, Lady Serne Aindark, the official successor of the Ivory Tower and Special Admission No. 2 student of Kizen!"

Serne, having managed to enter right after Simon, strode in, her brilliant ivory hair flowing behind her. Though annoyed that their names hadn’t been announced together, she wore a relaxed smile, casually linked arms with Simon, and gave a little wave. "Entering, Lady Lorraine Archbold, daughter of the Witch of Death, Nephthys!"

This time, gasps of astonishment erupted even from the dignified high-ranking nobles. Lorraine, who rarely made public appearances, had arrived in a black dress. "Even Nephthys’s daughter is here!"

"The scale of this event has grown. The royal family must have truly pulled out all the stops this year." The arrival of the three Kizen students was a sensation. Nobles from the upper floors began to descend to greet them. A few people approached to talk or ask for a dance, but the trio simply smiled without actively engaging. They were on a mission, and this was their post. "Her Highness, Princess Molly, is entering!"

At last, the star of the ball, the princess herself, appeared. All the nobles rose to their feet and applauded. Molly, in a white dress, bowed gracefully. "I thank all the distinguished guests who have graced us with your presence."

After greeting the nobles, she slowly made her way to the center of the hall. Simon now realized what stood there. ’That’s the execution platform from the story!’

He hadn’t recognized it at first. The blade had been removed, and it was lavishly decorated with vines, ribbons, and lights.

Molly ascended the platform and rang a bell. A clear, pure tone filled the air. "To the students who have come despite their busy lives at Kizen, all because of my insistence, I offer my sincere gratitude and make my wish." She continued in a resonant voice, "Although the three of you are bound by a security mission, I wish that for tonight, you would move around freely as invited guests, enjoy this time, and relieve your fatigue. Do I have the permission of our esteemed guests?" The nobles laughed cheerfully and raised their glasses. Princess Molly raised hers as well, and Simon, Serne, and Lorraine quickly followed suit. "To the prosperity of the kingdom!"

"To prosperity!"

Everyone drained their glasses, and Princess Molly rang the bell once more. Applause filled the hall. ’She used her wish for us.’

There was no reason to refuse such a wish. It eliminated any chance of being scorned for slacking off on duty, and Kizen couldn’t object since it was the client’s command. As Simon processed this, Molly’s gaze flickered subtly toward him. ’Truthfully, I wanted to make a different wish.’

She had wanted to wish for Simon to come to the Dresden Kingdom after graduation. If not that, she had wanted to wish for her own Core to be opened so she could become a necromancer. But those were personal desires, not suitable for the tradition of the ball. The atmosphere of the ball grew more festive. Thanks to Molly’s wish, the three students could now mingle freely, sample the food, and converse with the other guests. "I’m Simon Polentia."

"I saw your performance. My son is also a first-year, so I was on Roc Island." Everyone here was an important figure, so making a good impression couldn’t hurt. Simon broadened his horizons by speaking with various people. Lorraine, claiming she wasn’t suited for parties, quietly slipped away. Serne spoke only with a select few who seemed to be blocking anyone else from approaching her, repeating the same lines over and over. Just as the party was reaching its peak, a loud rumble of thunder shook the palace, and the ballroom lights went out. Surprised murmurs filled the room. As the festive mood subsided, the sound of pouring rain could be heard from outside. ’Is it raining?’

Simon glanced out the window to see thick sheets of rain pouring down. "The butlers have gone to check the mana generator and magic circle. Please wait just a moment!" The old castle, now devoid of light, took on a gloomy atmosphere. The guests stopped dancing and quietly found seats to chat. Simon’s legs were aching, so he sat down in a chair. Serne, appearing as if from nowhere, grabbed his arm and clung to him. "I’m scared," she cooed. A shiver ran down his arm. "I’m more scared of you," Simon replied calmly. "How mean!"

Lorraine, who had been on the terrace, rejoined them. She scanned the room with her ruby-like eyes, which glowed even redder in the darkness. "Is something wrong, Simon?"

"It seems there’s a problem with the lights."

Lorraine nodded nonchalantly and sat down to sip her wine. The sound of wet military boots echoed from the entrance. In the quietened hall, the sound of someone walking in from the corridor was unnervingly loud. Another crash of thunder made people flinch. By now, every guest on the first floor had turned to face the entrance. The doors flew open. A man soaked to the bone stood in the doorway. He wore ragged clothes, his cheeks were gaunt, and a convulsive laugh escaped his lips as his shoulders twitched. He reeked of alcohol, and one of his eyes was unfocused. "You all look so happy," he slurred. "Hee hee hee..."

The wet man clapped thrice, then scanned the room with cold eyes. "But I’m not."

Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the hall before plunging it back into darkness. In that instant, those who saw the man’s face gasped in horror. He was none other than the third prince who had been expelled from Kizen, a second-year student and the former president of the Noble club. Prince Andre. "But well, what do you know. Someone I never expected to see is here." He looked toward Simon, and a smirk crept onto his lips. "Simon Polentia."