Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner-Chapter 160: Episode

Simon knew his mother had a chronic illness. Ever since he was a child, she would fall sick for a few days each year with some unknown ailment, only to recover as if nothing had happened. But the frail woman lying in bed now looked worse than he had ever seen her. A complex magic circle, woven from pure mana, glowed on the floor beneath her bed—Richard’s doing, no doubt.

"Follow me, Simon," Richard said quietly.

While she slept, they stepped outside and walked to a small hill not far from the house.

"Father, what happened to Mom?" Simon asked, unable to wait any longer.

"It’s her usual illness," Richard answered, his tone calm. "However, there’s been a complication."

The medicine that eased Anna’s symptoms could only be produced in the Holy Federation. But in the wake of the Nephthys incident, Efnel had issued a high-level security alert across its entire territory. All routes leading out of the Federation were now sealed.

"The broker who provides her medicine once a year contacted me," Richard explained. "He said it would be impossible this year."

Simon stared, dumbfounded. He never imagined the attack on Kizen could have such far-reaching consequences, affecting his parents all the way here in Leshill.

"Don’t worry. I’ve already made arrangements."

"Arrangements?"

Richard looked up at the sky. "I managed to contact an acquaintance of your mother’s. She has obtained the medicine and is coming to Leshill to deliver it herself. She should arrive this week at the latest."

"Oh!" Simon’s face brightened with relief. "That’s wonderful! We’re so lucky to have her!"

"Indeed. Which is why I have a favor to ask of you." Richard met his son’s gaze. "I want you to meet her. The times are unsettled, and as someone from Efnel, she will likely feel threatened. I need you to act as her escort."

Simon nodded vigorously. "Yes! Leave it to me."

The medicine would arrive within the week. Anna would be fine. With the full story explained, the heavy atmosphere between them began to lift. Richard asked about life at Kizen, and Simon, as if a dam had broken, poured out story after story—about his friends and professors, his classes and evaluations, and all the necromancy techniques he had learned. As he spoke, he realized it anew: his time at Kizen had been truly precious.

A gentle smile touched Richard’s lips as he listened. "That place hasn’t changed." His voice was thick with nostalgia. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"Huh?!" The unexpected question caught Simon completely off guard, and a blush crept up his neck. "N-No, I’m not."

"Good." Richard ruffled his hair proudly. "This is the most important time in your life, when you’re shaping your future. A healthy relationship is one thing, but the passions of youth are incredibly difficult to control. Be especially careful when it comes to the opposite sex."

"Um..." Simon stared intently at his father.

Richard was taken aback by the strangely rebellious glint in his son’s eyes. Had Simon ever looked at him like that before? "What is it?"

"It’s nothing," Simon muttered, pouting as he turned away.

Richard was flustered. His kind, obedient son was showing a rebellious streak? He supposed it was inevitable after spending so much time with his peers.

’...Seriously?’ Simon thought, annoyed. ’Does he not remember his own past?’ He’d already heard plenty from Nephthys and Pier about Richard’s school days. For his father, who had lived a life so debauched it was hard to speak of, to warn ’him’ about dating felt more than a little unfair.

It was the son’s first silent rebellion, born from a history the father had long since forgotten.

---

On their way down the hill, Simon steeled his resolve. ’I have to ask now.’ This was their time together; dragging it out would do no good.

"Father."

"What is it, Simon?"

"There are two things I need to ask you."

At Simon’s serious tone, Richard stopped walking. He knew this was coming. He nodded gravely. "Go ahead."

"First, what exactly is Mom’s illness? If her medicine can only come from the Holy Federation, it must be related to the Priests, right?"

For as long as Simon could remember, his parents’ past had been shrouded in mist. Asking about it was an unspoken taboo. Richard had only ever said that knowing the truth would put Simon in danger. But things were different now. As the new Legion Commander, he was directly involved. He needed to know who his parents were and the true nature of the illness they had always dismissed as a simple chronic condition.

"Yes," Richard said, his gaze distant. "It’s time you knew. Your mother is a former Saintess of Efnel. In the Holy Federation, she was known as the ‘Saintess of Miracles’."

Simon’s jaw dropped. His mother, a Saintess like Flema? He had suspected she might be a skilled Priest, but this was beyond anything he could have imagined. And he was the child born of a Legion Commander and a Saintess.

"The illness she carries," Richard continued, "is a side effect of having the ‘Essence of a Saintess’ forcibly removed from her body."

"The Essence of a Saintess... removed?" Simon had already heard about the Essence from Nephthys.

’When you kill a Saintess, something called the ‘Essence of a Saintess’ flows out and floats in the atmosphere! Soon, it will settle in a person with high compatibility for the essence in the Holy Federation, and a new Saintess will be born.’

The power that transformed a mortal into a demigod. To forcibly remove it must have been an unimaginable ordeal. And Richard, too, had disbanded his Legion by choice. Simon had always seen their life in Leshill as peaceful and idyllic, but he now understood the immense sacrifices they had made to achieve it.

"There is currently no cure," Richard admitted. "But thanks to the medicine from the Holy Federation, she can continue to live."

"I see..." Simon nodded slowly, then looked at his father again. "My second question is about you."

"Go on."

"You were a Legion Commander." A flicker of surprise crossed Richard’s face. "I heard you were famous at Kizen. But strangely, there are no records of a necromancer named Richard Polentia."

Aside from Nephthys, none of the professors or his friends recognized the name. He had scoured the Kizen library for any mention of his father but had found nothing. "Who are you, really?"

"Haha..." A faint smile played on Richard’s lips. "I used a pseudonym."

In his youth, Richard had despised his own father, Telon Polentia. The man was a brilliant necromancer but a monstrous parent—a sociopathic alcoholic who frequently abused his wife and son. He had even experimented on Richard’s body for his research. Unable to bear the tyranny, Richard had run away, casting off the name he had inherited. He decided he would forge his own identity, creating a new name for himself. It was the name he used when he entered Kizen and the name he carried as a Legion Commander.

"Yona," Richard said, his smile wistful. "When you return to Kizen, search for that name."

He offered no further explanation, and Simon, having received his answer, didn’t press.

"Father."

"Yes."

"I’ve become a Legion Commander. I inherited your Legion."

Richard’s eyes widened, his composure finally cracking. "...Did Nephthys tell you?"

"Yes."

"And Pier?"

"He’s been unsealed and is doing well. I’ve gathered Erzebet and Prince, too."

Simon watched his father, curious to see how he would react. Would he be proud? Angry? But Richard’s expression was unreadable.

"I see," was all he said, his voice layered with a thousand unspoken emotions. "If you don’t regret it, then that’s fine."

He asked no more about the Legion. By then, they had arrived back home.

---

The next morning, Simon set out early, racing through the mountain range.

’It’s been so long.’

As the acting lord of Leshill, he had crossed these rugged mountains thousands of times to manage the territory’s villages, all without a Core in his body. Now, as a necromancer, he conquered the terrain with ease. Maintaining a constant flow of Jet-Black, he ran upon it, the scenery blurring past him. As he ran, he recalled Richard’s instructions.

"The guest should have already arrived nearby. However, the Forked Forest Path is frequented by monsters and has complex terrain, so a first-timer is bound to get lost. I want you to guide them personally."

A guest from the Holy Federation. He was intensely curious. In such a tumultuous time, this person had traveled all the way to the Dark Alliance with medicine, solely for Anna. He felt an immense gratitude for someone willing to risk their life for his mother.

Soon, he reached the Forked Forest Path, the main gateway into Leshill. He found a tall, conspicuous tree, climbed into its branches, and settled in to wait, concealed among the leaves.

He bit into a rice ball Richard had made with his less-than-stellar cooking skills. He had to wait, but there was no telling for how long. The path was quiet, with only a few merchant carriages passing by. Resigning himself to a long wait, Simon pulled his vacation homework from his Subspace.

While deep in his assignment, he spotted a lone traveler entering the path. They wore a white robe with the hood pulled up, and a backpack was slung over their shoulders. The description matched Richard’s almost perfectly.

Simon stowed his homework and leaped down from the tree.

"A pleasure to meet you," he said, bowing politely.

Startled by his sudden appearance, the traveler flinched to a halt.

"Oh, I’m..."

A sudden gust of wind erupted. In a blur of motion, the traveler vanished, reappearing at his side to deliver a powerful kick.

Simon threw up his right arm just in time to block the blow. Their limbs locked, trembling from the force of the impact. Leaves scattered into the air, and dust billowed from the ground.

Maintaining a strained smile, Simon said, "Wait a moment. I think there’s been a misunderstanding."

"You," a woman’s voice hissed from within the robe. "You’re a necromancer, aren’t you?"