Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner

Time flew by in Bahil’s lab as Simon learned the new curse. Soon, they both had to prepare for their next class. Simon bowed politely to the professor and left the Cursology building.

He had to get back to the lecture hall, but his hands were itching to try it out. The diagrams and symbols Bahil had shown him swirled in his mind.

’I’ll just give it a quick try.’

Stopping in front of a tree, Simon took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

The familiar ‘Sleep’ magic circle spread neatly across his palm.

Then came Bahil’s advice.

He added new symbols and shapes to the existing formula. He unfolded another magic circle connected to the center of the first, altering the angle of rotation and the pattern values.

’The key is the emission form extending outward from the runes.’

’From a linear formula to one closer to a circle.’

’Artificially enhance the effective magic value.’

Recalling Bahil’s points one by one, Simon’s eyes flew open.

’Bahil Remake – Sleep-Fuzz’

As he activated the magic circle, gray smoke billowed out from his palm, spreading through the air.

Simon blinked. "Something happened. Did it work?"

Just as he was wondering, a soft sound broke the silence.

’Plop.’

The birds that had been perched in the tree fell silently to the grass below. Simon stumbled back in surprise.

All the birds were asleep.

’Success.’

It was an area-of-effect spell that applied a single stack of ‘Sleep’ to every target in the vicinity. While its potency and duration were significantly weaker than the version he typically used, it was a remarkable achievement for a first attempt.

’Still, I feel a little bad.’

Simon smiled sheepishly and clapped his hands once. The sharp sound echoed in the quiet air. The sparrows lying on the grass fluttered their eyes open and shot up from their spots. Seeing Simon so close, they took off in a startled flurry of wings.

He watched them disappear into the sky before turning and walking toward the Summoning Department building.

---

On the fourth floor of the Cursology Department building, two figures observed the scene unfold.

"A professor who can weave an area-of-effect magic circle on the spot, and a student who masters it on the first try," remarked Chehekle, the chief teaching assistant of Cursology, as he crossed his arms. "As expected of geniuses. They’re truly something else."

Bahil leaned silently against the window.

"You yourself possess a great talent, Chehekle."

"That sounds suspiciously like you’re fishing for a compliment."

"In any case," Bahil said, grabbing his fedora and pressing it down firmly, "this new semester, where I’ve had my Simon stolen from me, is off to a promising start."

"...Please, for the love of all that is unholy, drop that disgusting possessive pronoun. I’m terrified someone might hear you."

Bahil casually ignored the plea, a smirk playing on his lips.

"An unexpected variable has appeared. My dear senior Aaron will undoubtedly be shaken to his core."

"Are you referring to that rumored transfer student, White?"

"Precisely."

A complicated expression crossed Chehekle’s face.

"...I’ve never heard the full story of the Fifth Legion Commander, Magnus, from his time as a student at Kizen. It’s a topic everyone seems to avoid. Is the school in such an uproar just because this student, White, resembles him?"

Bahil tilted his head back, his gaze drifting to the sky outside the window.

"It’s inevitable. It was an unprecedented event in Kizen’s three-hundred-year history."

His eyes grew cold and sharp.

"It was, after all, the first and only time a student murdered a Kizen professor."

---

The next morning, in the intermediate Summoning class.

The chalk danced wildly across the blackboard, a frantic staccato of taps and scrapes. Aaron was completely engrossed in his lecture, as if nothing had happened. On the surface, he appeared utterly unshaken.

To Simon, however, it felt different.

Aaron’s usual teaching style—laid-back, unhurried, delivered in a languid voice—had become sharp and intense. He seemed like a man trying to forcibly forget something by burying himself in his work.

The Summoning students, still oblivious, actually preferred this change. It was easier to focus. They scribbled in their notebooks at a much faster pace than usual.

Simon turned his head to look at White, who had taken a seat at the very back. He was simply taking notes like any other student, looking perfectly ordinary.

"That’s all for the theory," Aaron announced, setting the chalk down with a decisive ’click’. He strode over to the lectern and picked up the attendance book.

"When I call your name, please stand. Coiter Pizn."

A student named Coiter rose to his feet.

"Yes, Professor!"

"When the bloodstain reaction from a dead ghoul’s body is blue, explain the chain formula for ‘Summon Ghoul’ that a necromancer must use."

Coiter’s eyes widened at the unexpected question. After stalling with a few hems and haws, he racked his brain and stammered, "Frenzy—Bind—Constrict—Bone Strike!"

"That’s for a yellow reaction. One demerit. Raubel Venmus."

The next student shot up.

"Yes, Professor!"

"Blue."

"Frenzy—Bind—Muscle Constriction—Clot!"

"The order of Bind and Muscle Constriction is reversed. One demerit. Pierre Buckler."

Aaron continued to call on students, relentlessly checking if they had memorized the material. Faced with a sudden barrage of demerits, the students frantically flipped through their textbooks, but the teaching assistants patrolled the aisles with watchful eyes, shutting any open books they saw.

"Drill this formula into your heads," Aaron commanded, tapping his forehead with a fingertip. "You need to be able to recall it in an instant, even in the heat of battle."

Immediately after the quiz, the practical session began. Aaron provided the students with lists of varying conditions, and they had to construct ghoul magic circles that met those specific requirements. The 52 students grunted and groaned as they began their work.

"By the end of today, you will all have mastered the ghoul," Aaron declared, pacing the room with his hands clasped behind his back. "Following my class, you have Summoning Materials for second period and Summoning Funerary Rites for third. I know your major classes are back-to-back. I guarantee that if you pass today’s curriculum, you will be able to command ghouls with absolute freedom."

’Master them in a single day?’ The claim was so audacious that the students, bent over their magic circles, began to look up one by one.

"And tomorrow," Aaron announced, his voice ringing with finality, "we will begin the practical evaluation using those ghouls."

---

Having thoroughly mastered the theory and summoning circles in Aaron’s class, the students were immediately whisked away to their next lesson: Grelion’s Summoning Materials.

They used a teleportation circle to arrive at their destination—an outdoor class, a welcome change of scenery. They found themselves at the base of a vast, unfamiliar cliff face.

"Everyone, attention!"

The teaching assistants for Summoning Materials, their heads shaved and clad in bizarre outfits, stood in a peculiar pose with their legs apart and arms crossed.

Beyond them, Grelion made his entrance. He wore only pants, his brawny, muscular torso on full display, with a pair of sunglasses perched on his face. He struck the same pose as his assistants, crossing his enormous arms.

"Uh, for some reason, I feel like Professor Grelion gets more bulked up every time I see him," Toto muttered quietly from beside Simon, who nodded in solemn agreement.

"You should have heard the details from Professor Aaron!" Grelion boomed. "If it were up to me, I’d continue with the chimera lessons, but it’s part of the curriculum, so it can’t be helped."

He uncrossed his brawny arms and planted them on his hips. His muscles rippled unsettlingly with the movement.

"Today, you will acquire fresh ghoul materials with your own two hands!" he roared, his voice so loud that rock fragments crumbled from the cliff face above.

A female student shot her hand up eagerly.

"Professor! Aren’t we just buying them from Rochest?" She was Eshe.

"Of course not!" Grelion’s muscular arm shot out, his hand clenched into a fist. "That might work for skeleton-types, but for monsters like ghouls that utilize their existing bodies and muscles, their quality plummets when purchased from undead factories or necromancer shops. For ghouls, it is always best for the necromancer to catch them fresh in the field!"

He pointed a thick finger.

"You!"

"Y-Y-Yes! Toto Amori!" Toto squeaked, his face a mask of misery. His expression screamed, ’Why me again?!’

"Explain the main ingredient for a ghoul!"

"It’s... it’s a Ratcher!"

"Correct!" Grelion adjusted his sunglasses. "The Ratcher is a common monster with a threat level of three! Gungwi, Gremlins, and Lidons have also been used, but in the current world of necromancy, over 94 percent of ghouls are Ratcher-based. Ever since Master Drion’s ghoul formula was standardized, the Ratcher ghoul has proven superior to all other types. In fact, in modern summoning, it’s no exaggeration to say that a zombified Ratcher ’is’ a ghoul!"

The students all nodded in unison.

"From now on, I will teach you how to select a quality Ratcher for ghoul creation!"

Grelion suddenly launched into his lecture. The students, without so much as a desk, hurriedly opened their notebooks and began to scribble down his words.

"Avoid Ratchers with a reddish tint on the back of their necks! It’s a sign of old age. A young one will have firm muscles and is far better for making a ghoul!"

"When using a bow or a sword, aim for the neck. Taking the head clean off is fine, but if a weapon gets lodged in the muscles of the legs or arms, the quality will be severely degraded!"

Grelion held up the corpse of a furry Ratcher, pointing out the exact spots to target. The students, befitting their second-year status, boldly moved closer to examine it.

"Proper butchering is also essential!"

With a heavy ’thump’, Grelion placed the Ratcher’s corpse on a table and produced a corpse knife.

"Truthfully, you can just engrave the summoning circle right after the kill, and it’ll work well enough! But you are students of Kizen, the continent’s finest elites! This is the technique required to draw out a ghoul’s performance to near perfection!"

He pointed to the Ratcher’s calf.

"Everyone, come closer! See this part?"

"Yes!" the students replied.

"Make an incision here with a small knife, size 7 or smaller."

With a swift slice, he cut into the calf.

"Create a path for the jet-black to flow."

"B-But it’s an undead that uses its muscles. You’re making a hole in it?" a student asked, confused.

"An undead’s motor functions are different from those of a living creature! Always keep your minds flexible and make room to accept the unconventional! Next is here!"

With a sickening ’crack’, he pried open the shoulder blade muscle with nothing but his grip strength, causing many students to flinch.

"Don’t look away! Especially you, the girl in the front! Open your eyes and watch carefully!" Grelion roared. "The performance of every single summon you create is directly linked to your lives and the lives of those you wish to protect!"

"Yes, sir!" the students shouted.

"Preparation is crucial! With undead, their absolute performance is often determined the moment they are completed. The first time you make one is the most important! Understood?!"

"Yes, sir!"

His knife work was relentless. After removing heavy, unnecessary fat deposits and internal organs that would hinder movement, he activated his black magic and engraved the ghoul’s magic circle onto the Ratcher.

A low gurgle escaped its throat.

The ghoul shot upright.

"Behold!"

At Grelion’s gesture, the ghoul fiercely kicked off the ground, dashed forward, and swung its arm. The students gasped in awe.

"The movement of an ideal ghoul! And I used a standard summoning circle!"

It turned on a dime and even leaped into a somersault. It was hard to believe it had been a dead corpse just moments ago; it displayed a dynamic and spectacular range of motion. Its motor skills were ironically far superior to when it was a living monster. This corpse seemed more vibrant than any living creature.

"I trust you all watched carefully!" Grelion said, setting down his corpse knife. "Now for the practical exercise! This place, the Ramakhan Crags, is teeming with Ratchers! During this class, you must secure a minimum of nine ghouls!"

He held up two thick fingers.

"This practical will not be graded on a scale but will simply be ‘PASS or FAIL’! Any student who fails to secure nine ghoul materials will automatically receive an ‘F’ in tomorrow’s practical and will be barred from attending the next Funerary Rites class! Why? Because you’ll be lacking the required materials!"

A wave of murmurs swept through the students. Failing to prepare the ghouls meant an automatic F. In other words, they would be disqualified from even taking tomorrow’s exam.

Grelion slammed his two large fists together with a heavy ’thump’.

"The ghouls you secure and prepare yourselves during this period will be used for the next class and the practical evaluation! Chief Assistant!"

"Sir."

The chief assistant held up a timer.

"Use any means necessary and bring back nine ghoul materials within two hours! Students who fail to get all nine are disqualified! If I judge the quality of your materials to be below an acceptable standard, you’re also disqualified! Harsh, you say? Nonsense! You are Kizen!"

With a sharp ’click’, the chief assistant started the timer.

"Operation: Ghoul Supply, begin!"

At those words, the Summoning students leaped onto platforms of jet-black without a second glance and vanished into the crags.