Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner

Chapter 504: Episode 504



"Of course," Lorraine replied, her smile gentle in the faint moonlight. "You’re in a similar position, unable to freely use your commander’s power at school. Yet you managed to claim the top spot at Kizen with your own strength alone. I think that’s amazing."

Simon scratched his cheek, a flush of embarrassment rising. "...Thanks. But I don’t think our situations are that comparable. I only started learning black magic after becoming a commander. You were forbidden from using a power you’ve wielded for years."

"You think so?" She turned her head as if it didn’t matter and gazed up at the night sky. "The moon is beautiful."

Simon watched her. ’This is harsh for Lorraine, but I don’t think Lady Nephthys’s judgment was wrong. If she can navigate these restrictions for the next two years...’

He was certain of it. Having felt time and again how everything he learned at Kizen fed into his strength as a commander, he knew she would become a far stronger, more incredible necromancer than she was now. This second year would be the greatest turning point of her life.

"Shall we head back?"

All three buckets were now overflowing. She rose to her feet. Simon picked up his own bucket with his right hand and reached for the second.

Lorraine’s pale hand brushed against the back of his. They both recoiled at the same time.

An awkward silence hung between them in the moonlit night.

"I’ll carry it," Lorraine said first.

"Ah, no! I’ll take two!"

After a brief squabble over the third bucket, they decided to place it between them and lift it together.

"One. Two. Three. Argh"

Side by side, the boy and girl carried the water bucket back toward the camp. As they walked, enjoying the pleasant night breeze, Lorraine suddenly giggled.

"We’re being ridiculous, aren’t we? We could have just ordered a skeleton to do this."

"Not very necromancer-like of us," he agreed.

They continued on, their lighthearted chatter filling the quiet night.

When they arrived back at the encampment, they found it in an uproar.

"What’s going on?" Simon wondered aloud.

Lorraine’s eyes darted to a drop of blood on the ground. "I hear voices from our tent. Let’s go."

---

Simon and Lorraine burst into the tent.

"What happened?"

Serne, Kajan, Lisa, and the coachman were all there, along with a stranger. A man was on the ground, bleeding and gasping for breath.

Lisa clung to him, shouting, "Brother! Don’t move! You’ll reopen your wounds!"

’Brother?’ Simon’s eyes widened. ’Then this must be... the client who sent the message for help!’

The man’s breathing was shallow and ragged as he looked up at Simon. "A-Are you... Sir Simon Polentia?"

"Yes, that’s me."

The man struggled to his feet. He was about Simon’s height, with a youthful face that made him seem close to Simon’s age.

"You’re the client, aren’t you?" Simon held out the request form. The man glanced at it and nodded.

"Yes... That’s right. But more importantly... there’s something I must... t-tell you..." He fought for each breath. "Thank you... for coming all the way to Tarados... I’m... so sorry."

A deep sense of foreboding washed over Simon.

"The job... is already finished." With a trembling hand, the man pulled out a coin pouch and pressed it into Simon’s palm. Inside were five worn gold coins. "The mission is resolved... so please... return to Kizen..."

Simon stood frozen, the pouch heavy in his hand, and stared at the man. His face was deathly pale as he panted, his gaze shifting to Lisa, to the raw worry on his little sister’s face. He managed a faint smile.

"I’m sorry, Lisa."

"B-Brother?"

After his apology, the man turned back to Simon, his eyes bloodshot. He staggered forward and seized the front of Simon’s robes.

In his peripheral vision, Simon saw Kajan’s fingernails lengthen and Serne pluck a feather from her hair. He waved them down with a subtle glance.

The man’s mouth opened. "Please... save us!" A torrent of blood erupted from his mouth. "The Order... they’re madmen! They’re still performing horrific experiments on innocent people! Many are trapped in their underground base, and the ‘experiment’ is nearly complete! If they succeed, not just Tarados but the entire continent will be in danger!"

’Cough! Cough!’

A spray of blood splattered across Simon’s face.

"B-Brother!"

"Please!" he begged, collapsing to the ground. He vomited more blood, his trembling hands clutching at Simon’s pant leg. "Please, save them! The one behind it all is the Order’s director, Nirti! You have to stop her...!"

With a final, violent cough of blood, he passed out. As murmurs filled the tent, Kajan shot forward.

"It’s a curse! Don’t let him say another word!"

Just then, a commotion erupted outside. Lorraine threw back the tent flap to reveal chaos. Fires blazed across the camp as assassins in black slaughtered soldiers and bandits alike.

"Lorraine! Serne! Kajan!" Simon commanded. "Deal with the situation outside! You must protect General Amin and Leader Karac at all costs!"

"Got it!"

"It’s dangerous here! Coachman, get to safety!"

"Y-Yes! Please be careful!"

As the four of them rushed out, only three remained inside. The client’s breathing was a ragged death rattle, and Lisa was weeping over him.

"Erze," Simon spoke into the air. "Let no one enter."

[Yes, as you command.]

Erzebet’s voice echoed from nowhere, followed by the sound of spiderwebs sealing the tent. Simon placed a hand on Lisa’s shoulder as she sobbed.

"Lisa." She looked up, her eyes flooded with tears. "Don’t worry. I will save your brother."

"Si... mon..." Her head drooped.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her body going limp. Simon gently laid her on a cot, having put her to sleep with a curse. He then approached her dying brother.

"Just rest for a moment."

Using a multi-stacked sleep curse, Simon put the man into a state of magical anesthesia. Taking a slow, steadying breath, he stretched his hands out into the air.

’Pure mana magic.’

Mana gathered before him, weaving a complex magic circle—a barrier his mother, Anna, had taught him. She had told him to cast it if he ever had no choice but to use his Divinity. A moment later, a shimmering film of mana enveloped both Simon and his patient.

’I won’t let anything go your way.’

Simon brought his hands together over the man’s wounds.

’I can do anything!’

Muttering the trigger phrase, he switched from necromancer to priest. A white, miraculous light bloomed from his palms.

’Healing.’

Divinity surged through the man’s body. Simon held the spell for a moment before pulling his hands away.

’His internal organs are damaged. A simple surface heal won’t be enough.’

Simon took out a small knife.

’Holy Blade.’

It was a white magic spell taught by Parahan, the Professor of Defense Against Divinity. A blade of pure light, longer than the knife itself, materialized over the steel. He would have to make an incision and apply the magic directly.

’Professor Parahan taught me the theory, but...’

A bead of cold sweat trickled down Simon’s forehead.

’Will this work?’

He had no choice. The man would die otherwise. He had studied his priestly duties diligently.

’I will save him.’

---

The assassins sent by the Order had been dealt with. The moment they were captured, they collapsed, vomiting blood and dying, just as the client had—a cruel method to ensure their silence. General Amin had dispatched the assassins sent for him, and Karac, though seriously wounded, had managed to survive.

Once the chaos subsided, Kajan and Lorraine returned to Simon’s tent, only to find it cocooned in an unfamiliar, web-like substance.

"Simon!" Lorraine cried out.

Startled, she conjured a dagger and lunged forward, but Kajan raised an arm to block her.

"What are you doing? Simon is—!"

"He’s fine. Just wait."

They didn’t have to wait long. The webs melted away, and Simon emerged, his clothes stained with blood. In his arms, he carried the client, who was no longer dying.

"I’ve stabilized him," Simon said, panting.

Lorraine rushed forward and checked the man’s pulse. She was stunned. She had thought him beyond saving, but his breathing was steady, his complexion incomparably better.

’Incredible. Potions from Venomology class would have had their limits. How did he do it?’

She looked at Simon, her eyes filled with questions. He was already carrying the young man toward the army’s medical tent.

After Simon was out of sight, Lorraine stepped back into the tent he had just left.

’Ah.’

The air tingled. It was faint, but she could feel the Jet-Black within her body reacting, recoiling from something.

’Don’t tell me...’

Her gaze snapped back in the direction Simon had gone.

’I must be mistaken... right?’

Perhaps, Lorraine thought, Simon was far more secretive, and far more incredible, than she had ever imagined.

---

Midnight was approaching. Simon shed his blood-sticky robe, changed into fresh, practical clothes, and made his way to the ruins.

"You’re here."

Kajan, Lorraine, Serne, and General Amin were gathered in front of the ancient stones. The bandit leader Karac, it seemed, was too gravely injured to join them.

"What is it?" Simon asked, feeling Lorraine’s intense gaze on him.

She quickly looked away, flustered. "Ah, it’s nothing."

"The time has come," General Amin announced, checking his wristwatch. He took the key from around his neck. "I suspect the assassins from the Order were after this."

Serne crossed her arms. "Well, we waited until midnight, but it doesn’t look like anything’s changed."

"No," Simon said, his eyes fixed on a point in the empty air. "The space has distorted."

"Hm? I can’t tell."

Amin swept his palm through the air, his hand eventually stopping at the same spot Simon was staring at. "Then I will open the gate to the Order’s secret base."

He raised the key high and thrust it into the air.

’Kuuuuuuuung!’

As if space itself were responding, the air shimmered, and a transparent, glass-like wall materialized before them. Everyone gasped.

’Zzt! Zzt!’

Amin’s hand trembled, the key vibrating violently. Sparks flew as the portal flickered, threatening to open but never quite managing it.

"So the lord’s key isn’t enough on its own," Kajan observed, his expression grim.

Simon, who had been watching from behind, stepped forward. His right arm was now encased in Pier’s bone armor.

"General Amin, please keep stimulating the space with the key."

"Ah, yes!"

Simon slowly settled into a stance, raising the Greatsword of Ruin. Serne, usually so nonchalant, leaned forward with sparkling eyes, while Kajan simply grinned.

’What’s about to happen?’ Lorraine wondered.

’The space itself—’

Simon’s waist twisted, and the pure white Greatsword of Ruin, now seething with Jet-Black, shot forward.

’—I’ll cut it open!’

A clean line was carved through the air. With a sharp crack, the distorted space split open, revealing a new dimension within. Simon lowered his greatsword, his gaze calm and focused as he peered into the breach. That was the Order’s secret base. To complete his ‘experiment,’ Nirti wouldn’t have fled.

"Let’s go," Simon muttered coldly, taking the first step through the portal.

"Hmph." Serne licked her lips, a delighted glint in her eyes.

Lorraine shot her a look. "To think they’d use such a cheap trick to anger him."

Serne wagged a finger back and forth. "The ways to commit suicide are so varied."

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