Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner-Chapter 451: Episode

"Provisional Student Council President, step forward."

Every second-year student turned to look toward the third-years.

But then...

The sound of a chair scraping came not from the back of the room, but from the front. Simon was rising from his seat.

"Huh?"

"Why is Simon going up?"

The second-years reacted with a mixture of confusion and shock, but the third-years at the tables behind them maintained a tense, uncomfortable silence. Byulya, who had been scanning the document, looked up.

"Right, have you decided on a provisional Vice President? Come on up."

As if on cue, Meirin stood, her sky-blue hair flying. Feeling the stunned gazes of Jamie and Claudia, she puffed out her chest and walked forward with confidence. She had been waiting for this moment. Her eyes found Serne’s seat, which she had been watching since she arrived.

’How do you like that? I’m the Vice President of Kizen! The one Simon chose wasn’t you, it was me!’

Serne had gotten on her last nerve at the Ivory Tower during the break. Meirin savored the surge of pride and glanced at her rival, only to find...

Serne was fast asleep, her head tilted to the side. Meirin’s expression twitched. ’Ugh! She knew all along! She’s just pretending to be asleep!’

"Meirin?" Simon prompted, pointing ahead. "The podium is this way."

Meirin quickly composed herself, forcing a pretty smile.

"Ah, right."

Soon, the two of them stood on the stage. Byulya gave Simon a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"Wow! Our little guy is the Student Council President? You’ve really made it big!"

"Not at all, Professor," Simon replied, bowing politely.

Meirin, on the other hand, felt like her face would split from smiling so wide. ’I’m standing here representing every girl in this school. I’m the best!’

"As you all know, the official appointment ceremony is during the school-wide entrance ceremony the day after tomorrow," Byulya announced. "This is just the second-years’ opening, but the president’s appointment is a major event." She shrugged. "Still, it’s procedure, so we have to do it."

What followed was a simple ceremony led by the student representatives. The broadcast minions handed them a script for the oath and briefly explained the process. As they did, the second-years erupted into a flurry of whispers.

"Simon is the Student Council President? As a second-year?"

"I was sure Aizel would get it."

"But look, Aizel isn’t even here."

"What in the world is going on?"

Hector, ranked third, gripped the armrest of his chair, his face a stony mask. ’Damn it. Now he’s even snatching the presidency...!’

Ranked fourth, Merida Hugh Ikel, who was usually dozing off, had her eyes wide open and sharp. ’...The man Phantastus chose over me.’

Ranked fifth, Aseraz Mikel licked his lips with an intrigued expression. ’A second-year as president. Doesn’t that mean I could do it, too?’

Ranked seventh, Elisa Celine of the Ghost Ship scratched her head, looking completely dazed. ’Ugh! I was planning on getting on the president’s good side this year! Does that mean I have to suck up to that Simon guy? No way!’

While the second-years processed the news with a mix of shock and speculation, the atmosphere among the third-years was grim.

"...Are you really going to just let this happen, Leonard?" a man from a third-year table demanded, his eyes narrowed. It was Will Douglas, ranked twelfth overall.

"There’s nothing we can do," sighed the man with ordinary, brownish-blond hair sitting across from him. Leonard Peyron, ranked fourth among all third-years. "It was a promise between Aizel and Phantastus. It’s not our place to interfere."

"What the hell," Will scoffed. "We don’t even know if Aizel is coming back. And Phantastus was only intimidating when he was a student; now he’s just a civilian! What’s there to be afraid of? We’re the ones running this school now!"

Leonard let out a short, humorless laugh.

"Yeah, you’ve got a point there, Will."

"Right?"

In Kizen’s 330-year history, you could count the number of second-year presidents on one hand. It was a bitter pill for Will and several other third-years to swallow. A second-year president! What would the upperclassmen think? They were probably laughing, wondering if their year was that devoid of talent.

"You need to think carefully, Leonard. Our year is sandwiched," Will said persuasively, leaning forward like a bear. "Look at the year above us. It was completely dominated by Phantastus, the so-called greatest president in history, and his cronies. And the year below us? It’s even worse! It’s the generation with Nephthys’s daughter and the heir to the Ivory Tower!"

"And on top of that," Leonard added, "they’re the year that went through the Saint incident and the Blood Cult incident, and got a ton of media attention from the BMAT."

"Exactly! So what star player does our year have to show for itself? Fuck, besides Aizel, who is there?!" Will fumed. "And he’s tied up on a mission."

Leonard remained silent.

"And now the presidency has gone to a second-year. If it were Lorraine or Serne, I’d at least get it. It would look like the adults intervened for political reasons. But it’s not a Giant-blood, not a Moore, but some nobody named Simon who just popped up and became president! How is that going to make our year look?"

Leonard remained silent, running a hand through his bangs in frustration. Just then, Byulya’s voice boomed through the amplification crystal.

"All students, rise! Third-years in the back, on your feet!"

Chairs scraped across the floor as everyone stood. Simon and Meirin, on the podium, raised their palms and recited the pledge.

"We solemly swear," they declared in clear voices.

"We solemly swear!" every student in the hall echoed, raising their hands.

"One, we shall—"

For Will, and for many other third-years, this moment was a humiliation. A second-year leading the oath for the entire student body.

"Leonard," Will muttered, his hand still raised. "This is a disgrace. We have to take the presidency back."

Leonard did not respond.

"We can take it now and give it back when Aizel returns. We have to do it before we’re branded as a powerless generation!"

"It’s not the right time." Leonard shook his head, his gaze shifting to the Venomology table in the distance. A male student with large horns stood there, his hand raised. "Balak, ranked second, isn’t making a move. Let’s just watch for now."

"...Hmph." 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

Soon, Simon and Meirin lowered their hands, concluding the pledge. Will lowered his as well, his fierce glare fixed on their backs.

---

After the ceremony concluded, Simon and Meirin returned to their seats.

"Good job!"

"You both looked so cool!" Dick and Kamibarez greeted them warmly. The moment they sat down, heads turned from all directions.

"Simon! What happened? Are you really the Student Council President?"

"To beat out Aizel for the spot! That’s incredible!"

"Hey, Meirin! Why didn’t you tell us?!"

Before they could answer, Byulya roared, "Quiet over there!" She grumbled, "Damn it, cooperate so I can wrap this up and go home, you punks."

As the hall quieted down, Byulya consulted her list.

"Alright. Now, I will invite the professors in charge of each second-year department to the stage!"

The main event had finally arrived. Kizen’s system had first-year professors follow their students into upper years, allowing specialists to provide highly personalized education. This made the ’Department Head Professor,’ who was responsible for an entire department of second-years, incredibly important. It was essentially an evolution of the first-year ’Homeroom Professor’ role.

"First up is... let’s see." A smile played on her lips. "The Summoning Department!"

Tension filled the students’ faces. Simon was so nervous he was practically praying.

’Please, please, please...!’

With 1,000 first-year students, the year was split into front and back classes, each with a different professor. Typically, the professor with the better results would advance with the students.

"The very foundation of necromancy, right? The professor in charge of our Summoning Department is—" Byulya grinned at the list and raised her voice. "Professor Aaron Deia!"

"YAYYY!"

Amidst thunderous cheers, Aaron shuffled onto the podium from behind the curtain. He was exactly the same: limp, messy hair, a chin rough with stubble, and shorts that defied all sense of formality. Dragging his slippers, he gave a casual wave to the students before slumping into the professor’s seat on the stage.

"Hey, you can’t just sit down! You have to say a few words!" Byulya gestured wildly at the minions, who hesitantly brought an amplification crystal to Aaron. He took it with a weary expression.

"This wasn’t part of the procedure."

"Aww, don’t be a spoilsport. You dumped the MC job on me and told me to do whatever I want. Just do as you’re told!" Having been handed the reins, Byulya was clearly going to run the show her way.

Aaron sighed and stood up with the crystal. The hall fell silent, waiting.

"There’s nothing grand to say. I have only one thing for you: if you’re not prepared, don’t even set foot in this field."

Simon blinked. He’d heard that somewhere before.

"You’re second-years now, so you know how tough Summoning is. I can’t stand to see any more whining, complaining, or self-pity. I am not your babysitter. That is all."

With that, Aaron set down the crystal and sat. The students from the back class murmured in surprise, but those from the front class simply smiled. Simon did, too.

’You haven’t changed a bit, Professor Aaron!’

The heads of the other departments were announced in succession. For Necrology, a middle-aged female professor named Stacy Cezanne, who taught the back class, was chosen over Umbra from the front class. Simon felt a pang of disappointment.

The result for Hemomancy was expected. With Walter Han—or rather, Silage Visabar—dead after the Blood Cult incident, the back class professor, Preston Patton, was promoted to head the second-year department. He was a tall, elderly man.

There were no surprises in Venomology, either.

"Hahaha! I’m the head professor, you punks! Let’s get along!"

Despite the controversy surrounding her origins and the boycott incident, Byulya, armed with the powerful duo of ’Jet-Black Venom’ and ’Immunology,’ had earned the students’ respect and was now the head of second-year Venomology. Simon thought it was a well-deserved outcome. A short distance away, he saw Claudia Mendes clapping, her eyes glistening with tears.

"Alright, next up is Combat Magic!" Byulya grinned as she scanned the document. "Ah, is this one too obvious?"

Known for her 100% outdoor classes, she consistently ranked at the top for student satisfaction. Her classes were demanding but incredibly rewarding, making her one of Kizen’s star professors, rivaling Bahil in popularity. Hongfeng Toon Soqum Marlat strode onto the podium.

"Hello, every-vun!" she beamed, waving with both hands as second- and third-years alike cheered wildly. "I’m zo happy to be exercizing with you all again this year!" she called out. "For a necromanzer, the balance between mind and body iz crucial. If one zide collapses, the other will eventually follow. In addition to our majorz, I’ve alzo opened a zecond-year intermediate Combat Magic clazz that non-majors can take!" She clasped her hands, her smile warm and inviting. "I really hope you’ll come."

Her gaze was fixed on Simon.

To the loudest ovation of the night, Hongfeng took her seat.

"Good job, my bratty little sister," Byulya chuckled. "Alright, next is Cursology... Hmm." Her expression hardened as she looked at the document. Her voice grew heavy. "There is an announcement for the Cursology department."