Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner

He’d been played. Completely.

With his right wing severed, Jetz was in a freefall. Simon had obliterated every nearby foothold, leaving nothing below but an endless expanse of clouds. In the Sky Arena, falling past the clouds was an automatic disqualification. His remaining barrier gauge meant nothing.

’To end like this... so pathetically...!’

Jetz clutched his remaining wing, his eyes flying open in defiance.

’I can’t let it end!’

He rapidly modified his flight magic circle. Dispelling the wings, he channeled the jet-black power into a single, explosive burst, propelling himself forward like a booster.

’Forward!’

’FWOOSH!’

The jet-black energy threw him through the air. He crashed onto the ground at the very edge of the Sky Arena.

A safe landing was too much to hope for. His body tumbled across the ground several times before slamming into the spectator fence and bouncing off. Nearby students cried out in alarm. He could hear the commentator screaming, tearing at his hair.

"Je-Jetz!"

"Are you okay?"

Jetz trembled as he pushed himself up. ’Ugh, the barrier saved me, but...’

[Simon Polentia: 79%]

[Jetz Schiemalad: 25%]

His barrier had plummeted into the red, the gauge flashing ominously. Jetz looked up to see Simon, still clad in his ‘Royal Guard Flight Mode’, descending leisurely toward him.

"Heh heh...!" Jetz struggled to his feet. "Skeletons that leap through the sky, and flight armor made from those very skeletons. You had quite an ace up your sleeve, Simon."

Simon looked down at him. "You still have the luxury of complimenting me?"

"Of course!" Jetz ripped his uniform shirt open, revealing a magic circle drawn across his abdomen. "Because I had a big one prepared, too!"

The magic circle activated instantly.

’Jetz Original – Ignipotence’

’FWOOOOOOSH!’

A green firestorm erupted from his abdomen, spreading out in all directions. ’The range of this technique is 5,900 feet! I have him perfectly targeted!’

To counter, Simon waved a hand. The emerald light drained from the nearby Royal Guard, gathering beside him to form a new magic circle. Behind it, Simon opened his Subspace.

"Come forth. Knights."

’Simon Original – Royal Guard & Blade Storm’

Two Skeleton Knights emerged from the Subspace, instantly bathed in turquoise light. The white vortex they generated swelled into a massive emerald whirlwind that pierced through the firestorm like a spear.

’Wh-what the hell is that!’ Jetz hastily canceled his spell and threw up a jet-black shield.

The Knights’ whirlwind smashed through the shield and stopped spinning. In the same motion, they seized Jetz’s arms and slammed him to the ground.

"What the—!"

’VWOOOOM—!’

Jetz’s gaze shot to the sky. The Cloud energy from the Skeleton Knights and Simon’s Flight Mode was converging on him, flashing like a pitch-black cross before condensing into the shape of an arrow.

"Dammit!!" Jetz thrashed wildly, but the Knights held him fast.

’Simon Remake – Blood Arrow’

As gravity pulled Simon downward, the black arrow shot forth.

"...Ha." The Skeleton Knights finally released him and stepped back. Jetz stared at the approaching darkness and let out a laugh of pure resignation. "You’re really... fucking strong."

A pitch-black explosion engulfed him, spreading out in a fan shape from the point of impact.

"Aaaaaaaah!"

A massive shockwave rolled over the stands, forcing the students to duck their heads.

[Simon Polentia: 79%]

[Jetz Schiemalad: 0%]

"[The winner!]" the referee bellowed, raising his arm high. "[Kizen’s Student Council President, Simon Polentia!]"

Benz and the Aland transfer students erupted in cheers, shouting themselves hoarse. The Sierra students slumped in their seats, their faces etched with disappointment, though some applauded the spectacular match.

"Tsk, I really thought we had a chance this year since he’s only a second-year," one Sierra student lamented.

"After all, Kizen is Kizen, I guess," another conceded.

The Sierra students accepted their defeat gracefully and began to file out.

As his Flight Mode disengaged, Simon landed softly on the hill where Jetz had stood. After retrieving his scattered skeletons, he walked toward the stands.

’Amazing.’

’Next year, I’m going to that school...!’

The admiring gazes of the Sierra first-years were fixed on him.

"Well then." Back in the VIP room, Jane turned and started to walk away. "I’ll be counting on you for cleaning duty, Headmaster. When you come to work next month, the head of the servants will inform you of your new tasks."

"...’Ugh!" The Sierra Headmaster’s face turned beet red, his fists trembling in silent fury.

---

That evening.

"Ah, this is the life."

Simon was enjoying the luxury of having Sierra’s on-campus hot spring all to himself. Soaking in the steaming water, he felt his fatigue melt away.

’So the rumors about Sierra’s hot springs were true.’

He leaned back, staring blankly at the condensation on the ceiling, and his thoughts drifted to the other Student Council members.

’I wonder if they’re doing well on their mission evaluations.’

He had hoped for a quiet, sentimental moment, but the water was too hot to stay in for more than an hour. After climbing out, Simon donned the robe Sierra had provided and stepped outside. He stretched his arms wide, gazing up at the darkening night sky. It was a rare moment of peace.

’First Tarados, now a tour of the three great necromancer schools. It’s been a grueling schedule.’

The plan was to spend the night at Sierra before leaving for ‘Moira’, the last of the three great schools, the next morning. Sierra had provided an entire guest building, a five-minute walk from the hot springs, for his use. He strolled leisurely toward it, the high-altitude air no longer bothering him after the intense match.

"You’re Kizen’s Student Council President, right?"

Simon turned toward the voice. A young man with one pupil dyed black was leaning against a tree.

"Can you spare a moment?"

He wore a red coat over his school uniform, a design similar to Simon’s own Student Council coat.

’Could this be...’

"I’m Roberto, Sierra’s Student Council President. A third-year," he said, holding out his hand.

Simon quickly composed himself and shook it. "A pleasure to meet you. I’m Simon Polentia, Kizen’s Student Council President."

After a light handshake, Roberto gestured. "We can’t talk here. Let’s go somewhere else."

"...Ah, yes. Of course."

Roberto led him to a nearby school building. The night air was chilly, and Simon rubbed his arms. Fortunately, it was warm inside.

"Here we are." Roberto opened a door, and Simon stepped through without suspicion.

"Ah."

A group of Sierra students was gathered inside. Some were in uniform, while others, like Simon, were in comfortable clothes, clearly having just washed up. In the center of the group was Jetz, the very opponent he had faced today.

"Simon Polentia!" Jetz shot to his feet, grinding his teeth. He strode over and jabbed a finger at him. "You think you can just beat me and walk away? I’m not letting you leave like this!"

Simon tilted his head, utterly confused.

---

"Hey, what is this!"

"Why do we have to listen to you Sierra guys!"

The Aland transfer students, who had been sleeping, were also being dragged into the room by Sierra students.

"Well, it’s a good chance for everyone to get together," the girl leading them said with a grin. "Kizen’s Student Council President is here, too."

"Simon’s here?!" Benz shoved his way through and threw open the door. "Hey, Simon! Did they try to get revenge on you or—!"

"AHAHAHAHA!"

The scene before him was the exact opposite of what he’d imagined. The room was filled with a loud, joyous atmosphere. Students were sprawled on the floor and chairs, laughing, talking, and drinking champagne. The tables were laden with delicious food. As he entered, the room erupted in laughter at one of Jetz’s party tricks.

"You’re late, Aland!" Jetz called out, extending his arm.

Benz looked around, bewildered. Then he spotted Simon in the center of the room, happily clinking champagne glasses with the Sierra Student Council President.

"Simon! What are you doing here?"

"Hm?" Simon took a sip of champagne. "It’s our last night in Sierra. They invited me to hang out."

Benz let out a hollow laugh. "...You scared me. Why did you follow them? What if they were planning to get revenge?"

"Professor Jane is nearby, and if worse comes to worst, I can get out on my own," Simon said confidently.

"Ooh, listen to the confidence! Little bro!" Roberto, his face flushed from the champagne, threw a friendly arm around Simon’s shoulders.

Simon laughed awkwardly. "Ahaha."

"Don’t just stand there looking dazed. Have some fun, Aland," Jetz said, walking over to hand Benz a fresh glass of champagne. He shrugged. "Or are you still sulking about losing last year’s Sierra-Aland Match?"

That was the trigger. Benz flared up. "It’s the ’Aland-Sierra’ Match! And you only won because you bribed the referee!"

"Sigh, here we go again with last year’s pathetic excuses," Jetz drawled. "The loser always has the most to say."

"You brought it up first!" Benz snapped, turning his furious gaze on Simon. "Simon! Settle this right now! After fighting us both, who was stronger? Me, or that Sierra bastard?"

An almost magical silence fell over the room. Every eye, filled with an intense, burdensome curiosity, turned to Simon.

He gave an awkward smile and waved a hand dismissively. "The terrain and conditions were completely different. It’s hard to judge strength based on just one fight..."

"Then how about this, little bro," Roberto chimed in, clinking his glass against Simon’s. "Which one of them was even a little bit ‘more’ difficult?"

"Umm." Simon scratched the side of his head. "Well, I guess Jetz was a little more..."

’WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!’

The Sierra students roared, throwing snacks into the air like confetti.

"Sierra wins the unofficial Sierra-Aland Match!"

"No way!" Benz cried in despair. "Simon, you traitor! You’re saying I was easier than that flying bastard? Guys! Does this make any sense—!"

"Sigh. You really shouldn’t have gone to the evaluation match, Benz," one of the other Aland students said, readily admitting defeat before grabbing a glass of champagne and mingling with the Sierra students.

"Hey!" Benz sputtered, pointing a finger.

"Pathetic! Grasshopper uniforms!"

"Hahahahaha!"

And so, the students from the three rival schools, who rarely had a chance to gather, partied and celebrated together. The night of youth deepened around them.

---

The next morning, Jane stood before the teleportation magic circle and looked back at the assembled students.

"Is everyone ready?"

"Yes!" they chorused.

New comrades had joined them from Sierra. Jetz and two other female students brought the total number of transfers bound for Kizen to six.

"Our final destination is Moira," Jane announced.

"...Moira," Benz and Jetz muttered in unison, their expressions souring.

Simon, wearing his Student Council coat, glanced back at them. "What’s wrong?"

"No, it’s just..."

"There’s something about those Moira guys that rubs me the wrong way," Jetz finished.

Jane placed a hand on her hip. "Quiet."

"Yes! Sorry!" they yelped.

"The transfer evaluation match with Moira is a little different," Jane explained. "As in previous years, it will be a three-on-three team match."

’Why can’t they just do things normally? Those guys always have to stand out,’ Simon heard Benz whisper.

He looked at Jane. "Professor, if it’s a three-on-three match, don’t we need to even out the numbers?"

"You needn’t worry about that." Jane swept her hair back, her expression unconcerned. "I have qualified students on standby. They should have arrived by now, so we’ll meet them when we get to Moira. Now, let’s go."

’Today is the last day of the mission evaluations. Who could possibly be available?’

With that question lingering in his mind, Simon stepped onto the teleportation magic circle bound for the final great necromancer school, Moira.