Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner-Chapter 44: Episode

Simon met her gaze and nodded, his expression resolute. "Yes. I am."

The moment the words left his mouth, Jane picked up her quill and signed the request form.

"You may go."

"...Pardon?"

The countless arguments and pleas he had prepared in his mind evaporated. Was she really approving it just like that?

"You must have a reason for declaring your confidence before a Kizen professor," she stated, her tone matter-of-fact. "You don’t need to convince me. You are Kizen. You need only take responsibility for the results." Her gaze turned chilling. "I hope, for your sake, that you haven’t deceived me, Simon Polentia."

Simon’s expression hardened as he took the full force of her stare, but he didn’t waver. He bowed his head deeply.

"Thank you for believing in me."

Her quill paused for a fraction of a second before resuming its frantic scratching.

"See that you return safely."

It was delivered like a casual dismissal, but Simon could have sworn he felt a flicker of warmth in her voice.

---

As soon as he returned to the dormitory, Simon sprang into action.

"Dick! I’m heading down to Rochest for a bit. Do you know a safe route?"

"Huh? Today?"

Following Dick’s directions, Simon made his way to Rochest. He purchased some equipment and an adventurer’s robe and clothes to conceal his identity. From there, he went straight to the Forbidden Forest and Pier’s ruins.

"Pier! Isn’t this perfect?" Simon proudly presented an empty suit of plate armor, the kind that might have decorated the hall of an old castle.

Pier’s face soured. [You’re not seriously suggesting I get inside that thing, are you?]

"You said you’d accompany me on the mission, right? You can’t exactly wander around looking like... that."

[...Tch.]

In the end, Pier relented and entered the armor. ‘Entered’ was the right word; he didn’t so much wear it as inhabit it. A moment later, the suit of armor began to move with an unnatural, clattering gait.

[...You really expect me to go around dressed like this?]

"It suits you, Pier!" Simon declared, clapping his hands with a bright smile.

Pier spun around, incensed. [Damn it! I told you not to smile like Anna!]

"Hahaha!"

After storing Pier and the Legionized skeletons in his Subspace, Simon returned to Kizen. In his dorm room, Dick was already asleep, and Caan was nowhere to be seen. Alone, Simon packed his bags and prepared for the journey. He was scheduled to depart by teleportation at dawn.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been off Roc Island.

With a thrill of anticipation, Simon closed his eyes.

---

At dawn the next morning, Simon grabbed his luggage and headed to the designated location. On a hill behind Kizen stood a long-distance teleportation device, where a crowd of students was already waiting.

"Simon!"

He turned at the sound of his name to see Meirin running toward him, waving. She was apparently using the same teleporter.

"Hey, Meirin."

"Hey! Are you really going to take that mission?"

"Yeah."

Meirin crossed her arms, her expression disapproving. "I’m telling you, investigation missions are hard to complete in five days. I told you to pick an easier one."

Simon offered a faint smile. "Thanks for worrying about me."

"I-I’m not worried!" she snapped.

He laughed it off. "Where are you headed?"

"A merchant caravan escort mission starting near Langerstine." She puffed out her chest with a proud smile. "Isn’t it great? A carriage trip from Langerstine."

"Still, be careful. If you run into bandits..."

"Hey, it’s not like the old days," she scoffed. "And even if bandits do show up..." She pulled back the adventurer’s robe she wore, revealing her Kizen uniform underneath—a black jacket, white shirt, and skirt. "I’ll just show them this and tell them to get lost. Even moronic bandits know better than to mess with Kizen."

Simon let out a dry laugh, recalling how the gangsters in Langerstine had lost all their nerve the moment Lorraine had mentioned Kizen’s name.

"...That’s kind of a cheap trick."

"That’s why the caravans hire Kizen students in the first place."

Just then, the teleportation administrators began calling out names. Hearing hers, Meirin waved.

"Well, bye! See you next week."

"Yeah, don’t get hurt."

"You be careful," she called back. "The Kingdom of Kalos is on the front lines of the Dark Alliance."

With those parting words, she ran off. A large group of students was heading to Langerstine, a popular destination due to its proximity and the chance to relax there after a mission. They crowded onto the teleportation platform.

A moment later, Meirin and the others vanished in a flash of light. An administrator then called Simon’s name along with a few others.

"Please present your identification and request form," the waiting administrator said, bowing politely.

Simon handed over his Kizen-issued student ID and the request form signed by Jane.

"Destination: Arnish Fief, Kingdom of Kalos. Is that correct?"

"Yes, that’s right."

"Please sign here."

The administrator took the signed document, smiled brightly, and stepped aside. "You’re confirmed. Please step on."

"Thank you."

Simon stepped onto the teleportation device and saw that another student was already there.

It was a familiar face. They had taken the student representative oath together—he for the boys, she for the girls.

With beautiful, fluttering ivory hair, she wore a white coat over her Kizen uniform and held a dainty parasol. When her eyes met Simon’s, she offered a graceful curtsy.

"We meet again."

The official heir of the Ivory Tower. Special Admission No. 2, Serne Aindark.

A palpable tension filled the air. It wasn’t just her prestigious background; it was the strange, disquieting aura she exuded.

’...It’s suffocating.’

Among all the students at Kizen, only Lorraine possessed a similarly powerful presence. But where Lorraine’s was oppressive and wild, Serne’s was a kind of impossibly high-born dignity. It was a monarch’s grace that made others feel small and insignificant, forcing them to look up in awe. He found it hard to believe she was the same age as him.

Just then, she opened her mouth. "I heard that Meirin is in your care."

She knew they were in the same group.

"She can be a bit prickly, but she’s a kind and gentle soul. Please take good care of her."

Simon took a slow, deep breath, forcing the tension from his body and clearing his mind. A relaxed smile finally touched his lips.

"Why are you saying that to me?"

"...Pardon?"

"Meirin isn’t someone under your protection," Simon stated coolly. "She’s a Kizen first-year, your equal."

He had caught the subtle condescension in her tone. Serne was, as a matter of course, treating Meirin as a subordinate. That fact was incredibly... grating.

"Meirin is doing just fine without your concern."

A deep, knowing smile formed on Serne’s lips. "I see."

He had never met anyone so mentally draining to simply converse with. Wanting to end the interaction, Simon turned his head away, but Serne continued to stare at him with her unblinking, jade-colored eyes. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

"Activating the device now!" the administrator shouted, much to Simon’s relief.

The teleportation device flared to life, and a brilliant light engulfed them.

"I hope to see you again soon," Serne said with a sweet smile.

’I hope not,’ Simon thought, surrendering himself to the dizzying, weightless sensation as the world dissolved around him.

---

The Dark Alliance. Kingdom of Kalos, Arnish Fief. The Lord’s Office in the Castle.

"...It’s happened again?" a middle-aged man with a long brown beard growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was Count Raymond, lord of Arnish.

"Yes, my apologies," the guard captain said, bowing his head, his face grim. Beside him lay a corpse on a stretcher, covered by a white sheet. Though the face was hidden, a limp, desiccated hand—like that of a mummy—was visible.

"The frequency of these incidents is increasing. This is the third one this month alone!" the Count roared, slamming his fist on the table. He loosened his collar and let out a ragged sigh. "I can’t live in this anxious state! What about the mercenaries we hired?"

"They are continuing their search, my lord, but even after scouring the entire fief, they’ve found nothing..."

The Count scowled. "Useless lot, just taking our money! Send them away!"

"Understood! And forgive me for asking, but from Kizen...?"

"Still no word," the Count spat, grinding his teeth. It had been three months since he’d sent the request. The body count was rising, and Kizen remained silent.

The guard captain bowed his head lower. "Perhaps instead of a general request, it would be better to formally ask for support from Kizen’s main office..."

"Call a necromancer from the main office?" the Count scoffed. "Do you want to blow the entire fief’s budget on a single request fee?"

"M-My bad!"

The Count leaned back heavily in his chair. "You may leave."

"Absolutely, my lord!"

The guards carried the corpse out of the room. The Count sighed and poured wine into an empty glass.

"Would you care for a glass?" he asked the empty room.

A voice answered from behind the curtains. "I thank you for the offer, but I must decline, as I am still on duty."

The curtain was drawn back to reveal a figure sitting in a chair, dressed in a robe with the hood pulled low, hiding their face save for a few strands of whitish hair.

The Count downed his wine in one gulp. "I apologize for summoning such an esteemed person to a place like this. But as you know, the situation is quite urgent."

The Crown Prince is scheduled to visit next month. Such a disturbing affair was unacceptable at this crucial time. The Count’s eyes gleamed with desperation.

"You can really... solve this, right?"

The figure in the chair slowly rose. The staff in their hand pushed back the edge of the hood, revealing a cascade of lush hair and the youthful face of a young girl.

"Do you not trust Efnel?" she asked, her voice soft but firm.

The Count flinched. "Th-That’s not what I meant...!"

"Do not worry, Count," she said, a serene smile gracing her lips. "Saving the people of the continent from the deeds of the wicked undead is the will of our great Goddess."

Her smile sharpened.

"On the honor of His Holiness the Pope, I, Ellen Zile, a second-year student of the Divine College Efnel, will resolve this case without fail."