Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner-Chapter 139: Episode

The game unfolded at a blistering pace. With both teams whittled down to less than half their original numbers, Meirin, Class A’s main cannon, continued her relentless assault. Her primary target was Serne, who stood smirking in the corner, her expression a mask of infuriating calm. But so far, Meirin hadn’t managed to land a single clean shot on her. "Agh!"

"Ugh!"

Every time the ball flew toward Serne, another Class C student would dive in front of it, taking the hit for her. Judging by the baffled looks on their faces as they were eliminated, it wasn’t their choice. Serne was undoubtedly pulling their strings with her feathers. ’She really gets on my nerves!’ Meirin ground her teeth. The way Serne treated her own classmates like pawns was infuriating. But what truly drove her mad was...

The sight of Serne flaunting the coat Simon had personally put around her, swinging it like a war trophy. ’I seriously want to tear that thing to shreds.’

There were moments she was so enraged she wanted to launch a fireball instead of the dodgeball, but she knew that was exactly what Serne wanted, so she forced herself to endure. "S-Serne."

Class C was having just as much trouble with her. The boy leading their offense finally couldn’t take it anymore. "I asked you not to use Hideo as a shield. He’s a crucial supporter."

Serne merely kicked the ball at his feet. "Just attack."

The boy fell silent. This was bad. Serne had completely lost interest in the game. He’d been relieved when she had actually seemed engaged during the lesson earlier, but she had quickly reverted to her usual self. ’Damn it. Our team has to win. I can’t stand to watch those Class A bastards gloat.’

The boy glanced toward the sidelines. The one person who could capture Serne’s attention, Simon Polentia, wasn’t playing this round. The fact that he was disappointed by this was, he admitted, not entirely normal. ’It’s damn hard trying to be a leader with a spoiled princess in the class.’

Class C was already completely under Serne’s thumb; the entire class was her faction. No one dared to speak up against her apathy. They could only watch her nervously and pray for her to be in a good mood. But getting close to Serne was its own challenge. The girls who ate with her sometimes claimed to have no memory of their meals together afterward. Others recalled conversations where they couldn’t understand why they had said the things they did. Emotion control. She was the heart of their faction, but no one in Class C considered her a true friend. And she seemed to prefer it that way, having no desire for close relationships. If anyone displeased her, she would simply control them with a feather. ’I don’t know what happened in her past, but she’s twisted to her very core.’

His gaze drifted to the other side of the court, where he saw Simon. A pang of jealousy hit him. It was frustrating that the only person Serne treated as an equal wasn’t one of them, the classmates who had been with her all this time. "Hey, what are you doing? Get a move on," Brad’s grumbling voice cut through his thoughts. The boy snapped back to reality. "Ah, yes! My apologies."

A combat magic major, he wound up and hurled the ball with all his might. Dick lowered himself to catch it, but it slammed into his stomach and bounced away. He was out. "Ugh! You moron!"

The boy’s attention was drawn to the shrieking girl on the other team. Come to think of it, Class A had an Ivory Tower member, too. Meirin Villenne. She was just as individualistic and arrogant as one would expect, but the atmosphere around her was different from Serne’s.

"After all that posing, you couldn’t even catch that?"

"It’s because you didn’t do ’that pose’ when you scored."

"Go to hell!"

’Ahahaha!’

The mood in Class A was lively. Meirin loved to be in charge, to be arrogant, to be the center of attention, but strangely, her classmates didn’t seem to mind. They treated her with a familiar fondness. ’They’re both from the Ivory Tower, but I’m jealous of her,’ the boy thought. As he was lost in thought, Meirin picked up the ball and strode forward. "Still, I suppose I should avenge my teammate, right?"

She raised the hand holding the ball and pointed it directly at Serne. "How long are you going to hide behind your human shields? Step up."

In response, Serne offered a taunting smile. "No way. I’m scared of getting hit."

"Ugh! I really fucking hate you!" Meirin snarled, lowering her stance and extending her arm to the side. A wave of tension washed over the Class C players. ’Her supporter is out.’

’What’s she going to do on her own?’

Something about the ball in Meirin’s hand began to change. For the first time since the game began, Serne’s placid expression shifted. The ball was freezing over, turning into a solid sphere of ice. A palpable chill filled the air, and several students on the court rubbed their arms against the cold. "Hmph."

A foxy smile spread across Serne’s face as she finally stepped forward. "Meirin, have you finally cast aside that useless pride of yours?"

"Shut up."

The ball in her hand was now a heavy chunk of ice. Her arm trembled under its weight, and a layer of frost spread across the court floor beneath it. ’Interesting,’ Serne thought, a look of genuine satisfaction on her face. Excluding her innate abilities, Serne’s specialty in Jet-Black elemental magic was flame. She could unleash twenty Dark Flares at once without breaking a sweat. Meirin, on the other hand, was more skilled with ice than fire, but she rarely used it offensively. The reason was simple: it put her at a disadvantage against Serne. Meirin had once even declared that she would defeat Serne using her own element, fire. "Haaah."

A cloud of white vapor escaped Meirin’s lips. She shifted her grip, holding the heavy ice ball with both hands. The tension on the court became thick enough to cut with a knife. "My goal hasn’t changed," Meirin declared, her voice ringing with conviction. "I’m going to become stronger than anyone, and I will defeat you before we graduate from Kizen."

"Mm-hmm, good luck with that," Serne cooed. "But I don’t need to be obsessed with just you to get stronger."

Meirin’s gaze flickered for a fraction of a second, landing on Simon.

"Oh, my, how admirable," Serne purred. "I suppose a special reward is in order."

She turned and winked, and the Class C students nodded, backing away.

"Haaaaaaah!" Meirin let out a fierce cry, channeling all her strength into the frozen ball she hurled through the air.

Serne casually plucked a feather from the tip of her index finger. Just as she swung her arm to launch it at the incoming projectile—

Suddenly, her footing gave way. The arm poised to throw the feather flailed uselessly as she lost her balance. A treacherous patch of ice, a remnant of Meirin’s magic, had formed on the court floor.

’Oops.’ As Serne tumbled, Meirin’s ball clipped her forearm and shot past.

"YAAAAAYYYYY!"

A colossal roar erupted from all of Class A. Meirin pumped her fists, shrieking with pure, unadulterated joy.

Having slipped on the ice, Serne blinked, a dazed expression on her face. The shock hit her Class C classmates even harder.

"S-Serne!"

"To lose so... anticlimactically..."

Serne scratched the side of her head, still looking bewildered. But when her eyes met her classmates’, she stuck out her tongue in a playful smile.

’Ah...’ one of them thought, clenching his fists. ’I’m just going to punch her and accept my damnation.’

Serne dusted off her skirt and walked off the court without a hint of resentment. While the Class A side of the court was still lost in celebration, a voice cut through the noise.

"Meirin Villenne of Class A is disqualified."

Brad’s indifferent tone echoed across the court. Meirin’s face went crimson as she whipped her head around.

"What? Why?!"Brad

"Did you not read the rules?" he droned. "Interfering with the opposing team results in a disqualification. Your ice patch caused an opponent to slip."

"Aaaargh!"

In the end, Meirin was out, too. She screamed that it wasn’t intentional, but Simon and Kamibarez managed to subdue her and drag her off the court. With both aces gone, the seven-on-five match devolved into a straightforward war of attrition as players fell one by one.

Brad blew his whistle. "The winner is Class A."

They had won by a two-person margin. The morale of the Class A students skyrocketed as they leaped and cheered. In stark contrast, Class C was chillingly silent, stunned by the defeat of their champion, Serne.

"I can’t believe the weakest team won."

"So now we just need to win one of the next two rounds, right?"

"Alright, let’s do this!"

For the next round, both classes sent out teams of moderate strength. Class A’s team was their deepest, featuring Cindy, Jamie, and Kamibarez. However...

"WOOOOAAH!"

An unexpected dark horse emerged from the C-rankers.

"Who the hell is that guy?!"

It was Ivan Varshany of Class C, a former boxer and aspiring combat mage who fancied himself the fastest student in Kizen. He was also the opponent Meirin had crushed in his debut during the first Duel Evaluation. But today, he was flying across the court.

Activating his Internal Jet-Black Eruption, he intercepted every single ball thrown at his teammates. In a game where defense was paramount, all of Class A’s attacks were neutralized, which in turn multiplied Class C’s opportunities to strike. The point gap widened in an instant. This match was Ivan’s stage.

’Did you see that, Meirin Villenne?’ His gaze shot to Meirin, who stood off-court with her arms crossed and a sullen expression. ’The defeat you handed me forged the man I am today!’

Ivan blocked a total of five attacks. Eventually, his body gave out, and he collapsed to the floor. Immobilized, he was immediately taken out by Class A’s counterattack. Still, he had accomplished more than any single player should have, and applause erupted from the crowd.

’Whew, so satisfying. I really gave it my all.’

Ivan’s gaze shifted as he left the court, and he happened to see Meirin and Simon talking.

"Did you see that, Meirin?!" Ivan shouted, pointing a dramatic finger at her. "I made it to the upper squad after the last evaluation! You’d better look forward to my revenge!"

She furrowed her brow.

"Who are you to be talking to me? Do I know you?"

Ivan’s face turned beet red.

"I was your first opponent in the Duel Evaluation!"

"Oh, really?" Meirin waved a dismissive hand. "Sorry, I don’t really remember the weak ones. Good effort, though."

Ivan was so flustered he couldn’t even form a retort, stammering before finally trudging back to his classmates. He was met with the praise of a returning hero, but he didn’t feel particularly thrilled.

The tide of the match had turned. Without her spirit transformation, Cindy Vivace was taken out anticlimactically, and the other students were eliminated one by one as they recklessly tried to make catches.

"Everyone, focus! Don’t give up until the very end!" Jamie, the honorary class president, yelled, rallying her team. Just then, a ball from Class C flew toward the sideline, and her eyes darted over.

"Watch out, Kami!"

Kamibarez, who had been cowering with her legs trembling, braced herself in an awkward posture.

A male student suddenly dove in front of her, taking the hit and collapsing to the ground.

"Ugh!"

"A-Are you okay?" A startled Kamibarez rushed over, her eyes welling with tears.

"This is because of me..."

The spot where he’d been hit throbbed, but the boy’s heart melted, his happiness skyrocketing. He grinned and gave her a thumbs-up.

"Yeah, I’m fine!"

Class C continued to bombard Kamibarez, but each time, a different male student would materialize to intercept the ball or shield her. As another one fell, clutching his face, Kamibarez whimpered.

"Oh my god! I’m so sorry!"

The Class C students watched the bizarre spectacle, murmuring in disbelief.

"What’s with her? Is she Class A’s version of Serne?"

"She must be using some kind of mental black magic!"

"Mental-type? I heard her name was Kamibarez Ursula."

"She is kind of cute, though."

Kamibarez trotted over and picked up the fallen ball.

"I-I’ll avenge you!" she squeaked with newfound determination.

An explosive roar of support erupted from the Class A students on the sidelines. Kamibarez was a rare breed at Kizen. Transcending factions and rivalries, the sixteen-year-old had somehow become the adopted little sister of the entire class.

"Hah!"

She tossed the ball high into the air. Then, dropping to one knee, she formed her hand into the shape of a gun.

"I’m sorry!"

With a sharp recoil, a crimson bullet shot from her fingertips. It struck the descending ball perfectly, sending it rocketing forward at incredible speed. It had veered off-court, but with the force Kamibarez had given it, the ball curved back in, striking another student and knocking him out.

"Oh!"

"She did it!"

"KAMIIIIIIII!"

A cheer louder than any before erupted. She bowed deeply to the eliminated opponent, then gave a bashful smile to her cheering classmates.

"Nice one, Kami!" Simon shouted.

Her expression melted like snow in spring, a radiant smile blooming on her face.

"Simon! I got one!" she exclaimed, hopping with joy.

Simon smiled back and waved.

’Huh?’

Was it his imagination, or was the back of his head suddenly tingling with an intense, prickling sensation? In truth, the murderous glares of numerous male students were boring into the back of his skull.

"Come on, hurry up! Next attack!" Brad, looking thoroughly annoyed, yelled for the match to resume.

Kamibarez and Jamie fought valiantly, but the game was already too far gone. Without any major upsets, Class C solidified their lead and won the round. The overall score was now tied 1-1.

It all came down to the final round.

"Final round. Everyone who hasn’t played, get out here," Brad ordered.

The students who had been warming up on the sidelines swarmed onto the court. They should have been steeling themselves for the decisive final match, but the Class C students’ faces were rigid. The presence of the two boys stretching at the front of the Class A line was utterly overwhelming.

’Damn it...’

’How are we supposed to beat them?’

It was a strange sight. Special Admission No. 1, Simon Polentia, and Hector Moore of the Moore family, standing on the same court as teammates. For Class A, it was a thrilling prospect. But then, as they stretched, their eyes met.

Hector shot Simon a glare that could kill.

"Come on, Hector," Simon said, his voice gentle.

A vein pulsed on Hector’s neck. He strode toward Simon, who held his ground, chin lifted. The other students panicked, rushing to pull them apart.

"Hey! Hey! Not again!"

"You’re on the same team today!"

They were polar opposites. A wave of anxiety washed over the Class A students.

’Can they really work together?’