Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner-Chapter 106: Episode

"Alright, the teleportation magic circle back to Kizen is on the roof of the exhibition building. Just go up those stairs," Shun said, his eyes welling with tears as he gave Simon a tight hug. "I, and all of Blue Harbor, will never forget this. No matter what happens to you in the future, we will always be on your side. You’re always welcome here, Simon."

Simon smiled and patted the boy’s head. "Thank you, Shun. I’ll never forget my time here, either."

The Overlord was transferred into Simon’s Subspace, and Erzebet followed. After a final farewell to Shun, Simon climbed the stairs. Just as promised, a teleportation circle was drawn on the rooftop. The Kizen subordinate bowed his head.

"Are you ready to return, sir?"

"Yes," Simon said with a grin. "Let’s go back."

---

The magic circle activated flawlessly. Arriving safely back at Kizen, Simon took a deep, satisfying breath.

"Hah, haaah! I missed this air."

He walked leisurely down a hill blanketed in wildflowers and arrived at the first-year campus. Since the mission period was still active, he expected it to be quiet.

"Huh?"

It was anything but quiet. The campus was alive with a festival atmosphere. Colorful party flags were strung between buildings, and flashy banners and balloons were everywhere. A massive promotional banner hung from one of the main walls. The central plaza was packed with booths of all sizes, where students yelled themselves hoarse to attract attention. The entire area was swarming with students browsing, handing out flyers, and shouting.

’What in the world is going on?’

He’d been gone for a few days, and the school had turned into a carnival. As a bewildered Simon looked around, a girl in a Kizen uniform approached him.

"Hey, you! Are you a first-year?"

The red mark on her collar identified her as a second-year. Simon quickly bowed.

"Yes, Senior! Good morning!"

"Hm? Oh, good morning," she said, pulling a flyer from her pocket. "I’m from the Dungeon Research Club. Come check us out if you’re interested."

"...Huh?"

She gave him a quick wink before moving on to the next student.

’A club?’ Simon looked down at the flyer.

’A treasure trove of monsters, where danger and reward coexist—the greatest mystery of our generation! Aren’t you curious about Dungeons?’

’Membership Benefits: Activity funds, club points, free rental of exploration gear, and dungeon exploration instead of missions!’

’Oh, so it’s club recruitment season.’

He remembered Dick mentioning it briefly. Looking around, he saw a truly unbelievable sight. The notoriously aloof and arrogant second-years were completely debasing themselves. Some wore ridiculous costumes, while others grabbed passing first-years and practically begged them to join, using tactics that bordered on flirtation.

’This is... overwhelming.’

First-years generally tried to avoid their seniors. While they respected them for having survived Kizen for over a year, the second-years were notoriously haughty and quick to anger. A missed greeting could earn you a lecture, and some even used their seniority to demand personal errands or dish out punishments in secluded alleys. The atmosphere was particularly tense after a recent incident where commoner second-years had systematically bullied noble first-years.

To see those same seniors now actively and desperately courting first-years was bizarre. It was a spectacle unique to club recruitment season.

As Simon walked toward his dormitory, he witnessed the sheer chaos. Two beautiful female seniors were in a tug-of-war over the arms of an overweight first-year, who looked utterly dazed and beet-red. Nearby, a handsome, chiseled senior had a first-year girl pinned against a wall, waving a flyer in her face. Just as she seemed about to give in, a brawny senior from an athletic club stormed over, brandishing a flag and yelling at him. The girl feebly tried to stop them, pleading, "Don’t fight over me," while her eyes darted between the two, clearly weighing her options.

Simon felt a headache coming on. What was this, the Kizen apocalypse?

’I need to get out of here. Now.’

An instinct for self-preservation kicked in, and he quickened his pace toward the dorms.

"A first-year! There’s a first-year over there!"

"Don’t let him get away!"

Before he could escape, a mob of second-years spotted him and blocked his path.

"Hey, first-year! A strong body builds a strong nation! Wanna join the Physique Club?" a male student yelled, lifting his shirt to show off his chiseled abs.

"Get lost, you muscle-head! Hey, first-year! No, esteemed first-year student! Are you interested in black magic that lets you control your dreams?"

"Kizen is all about practicality! Forget that nonsense and join our Transformation Club! It’s a huge help on infiltration missions...!"

They crowded in on him, speaking simultaneously, and Simon, completely cornered, frantically looked for an escape. Suddenly, a female student grabbed his wrist and pulled him into a run.

"Haha! This one’s coming with the Jet-Black Kendo Club!"

"He’s getting away!" the others yelled, giving chase.

Just as a ridiculous pursuit was about to begin, the kendo girl suddenly stopped.

"Ugh!" Her face went slack, and her head drooped. "Ughhhh... I’m so tired."

"Hey, what’s wrong?" Simon stammered.

All around him, the other second-years began complaining of sudden fatigue, collapsing to the ground in heaps. As Simon blinked in confusion, a man emerged from the crowd, seemingly unaffected. He was tall, at least six feet three inches, and plumes of Jet-Black rolled off his body. The grass and flowers withered at his feet.

"Found you. Simon Polentia," the man said, stopping in front of him. "I am the president of the Kizen Curses Research Society."

An inexplicable sense of dread washed over Simon. The man raised his arm, and Simon tensed, ready for an attack.

And just then...

The man dropped to his knees.

"Please, join our Curses Research Society!" he begged.

"Wh-What?"

"I’m begging you! If you don’t join, I’ll die!" The senior clutched Simon’s pant leg, refusing to let go. Simon, utterly flustered, tried to pull him up, but he wouldn’t budge.

’How did I end up in this situation...?!’

The president of the Curses Research Society still couldn’t forget the look in Professor Bahil’s eyes from a week ago.

—"Use any means necessary to get the first-year, Simon Polentia, to join the Curses Research Society."

—"P-Pardon?"

—"If you can’t even manage this, I suppose our relationship ends here."

A cruel smirk had spread across Bahil’s lips.

—"If you fail, you will step down as my direct disciple."

He could not—would not—lose his position as Bahil’s direct disciple. He had no idea what was so special about this freshman, but his entire future at Kizen was on the line.

"Please, not here!" Simon pleaded, trying again to lift him.

The man held firm. ’Just five more seconds,’ he thought. ’Five more seconds, and the high-purity mental curse will take hold. Then this will all be so simple...’

A red thread shimmered to life in the air between them. The president’s eyes widened.

A blast of blood-flow magic erupted, sending both of them flying backward. The president landed flat on his back.

"A senior shouldn’t be resorting to such dirty tricks, should he?"

A blonde girl in a red embroidered coat strode toward them. The crowd of students parted for her. Simon looked up.

"I am the president of ‘Sadam’, the Blood Flow Research Society," she announced.

"Ah, I see. I’m Simon Polentia, a freshman."

"I’ve been briefed on your new blood type, SM-1. This isn’t about being good at curses or summoning. In our field, you are a one-of-a-kind existence." She slowly approached, her finger gently tracing the line under Simon’s eye. "Jet-Black depletion. This mission must have been quite taxing."

"Huh...!"

She crossed her arms. "Join Sadam, and we will mobilize all our resources to research your SM-1 blood. It amplifies Jet-Black by consuming blood. With proper training, you could be free from depletion entirely and learn to wield a truly vast amount of power."

Simon blinked. He hadn’t been interested in clubs, but that was a tempting offer.

’Take the bait,’ she pleaded internally, her eyes glinting. She, too, had been waiting for him.

—"The emergence of SM-1 blood will turn the world upside down. And I plan to put your name right after mine on the research paper."

That’s what her mentor, Professor Silage, had promised. Silage wanted Simon as his direct disciple, and joining Sadam was the first step. If he developed an interest in blood-flow studies through the club, he might naturally change his desired major.

"Hey."

At the voice behind her, she spun around and leaped back. The ground where she’d been standing was turning black and rotting.

"Wait your turn," the Curses president growled, getting to his feet with a murderous expression, all traces of his earlier groveling gone.

"Don’t talk about turns. This isn’t a lunch line."

"You’ve gotten bold. It feels like just yesterday you were crying your eyes out after losing the first-year evaluation."

The Sadam president smirked. "You conveniently forgot that I beat you three times in a row after that. You were just a stepping stone for my growth."

"You little—!"

Just as the two were about to activate their cores and attack each other—

A throne fell from the sky, landing between them. The two presidents and the surrounding students screamed and scrambled back.

Simon peered through the cloud of dust. A man was sitting arrogantly on the throne, his legs crossed. Though he wore a school uniform, he also had on a cape and a crown. He rested his chin on his hand and grinned.

"So you’re the one they call Simon, Special Admission No. 1?"

"Ah, yes."

Another sophomore. He casually tossed a club application form at Simon’s feet.

"Consider yourself lucky! I shall grant you the honor of joining ‘Noble’!"

"...Huh?"

Half of the throne rotted away while the other half was splattered with blood. The man leaped off just in time, clicking his tongue.

"It seems we have some pests."

"I was talking to him first!!" the other two presidents roared in unison.

The three of them glared at each other, radiating killing intent. And Simon, watching his seniors from a safe distance, had only one thought.

’Ah, I just want to go and try out the Overlord already.’