Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner-Chapter 220: Episode

The first Summoning class of the semester sent shockwaves through the student body. Everyone was talking about Simon and his quadrupedal skeleton.

"...He-Hector."

Hector, on the other hand, was in the foulest of moods. From the very first day, his faction had to walk on eggshells around him.

"Don’t worry about it. Summoning is the only thing he’s even remotely good at."

"Right, right. Let’s just go get something to eat."

Hector slowly rose to his feet. "That’s enough. Don’t say anything."

"Okay!"

Normally, he was a decent guy—gentle, didn’t hold grudges, and took good care of his people. But whenever Simon was involved, things always went south. His faction members quickly escorted him away.

"Simon!"

Just as Simon was getting up to head to lunch, a group of female students who had been warily watching Hector rushed over as if they’d been waiting for their chance.

"How did you do that?"

"I want to get good at the Skeleton Dash, too!"

"Can you help me practice this weekend?"

The girls swarmed him, bombarding him with questions, but Simon patiently answered each one without a hint of annoyance.

"Oh, really? That’s a shame..."

’Thump!’

Someone shoved past two of the girls who were chattering away. They spun around, their eyes flashing with anger.

"What the hell...!"

The moment they saw the expressionless face of a girl with sky-blue hair, their own faces went pale. As the two flustered girls stammered, Meirin, who had been impassive, was the first to offer a saccharine smile and an apology.

"Sorry about that. My legs got tangled up as I was walking over."

Meirin’s apology only seemed to fluster the two girls even more as they broke out in a cold sweat.

"No, no! We’re the ones who are sorry!"

"We didn’t realize it was you...! R-Really!"

Meirin gave them another bright smile before turning to Simon. The closer she got, the more the other girls backed away.

"Hey," she began. "Are you going to eat or not? Kami and the commoner are waiting."

"Yeah, let’s go."

The two of them quickly slipped through the crowd. Meirin, striding ahead with Simon in tow, glanced back at him.

"You know this doesn’t look good, right?"

"What doesn’t?"

At his question, she heaved a sigh. "Getting all giddy just because you’re surrounded by girls. Why should you have to use your personal time to help them practice? At Kizen, time is gold. There’s a limit to how nice you should be."

Simon blinked at her suddenly sharp, cold tone. "Actually, I was just on my way back from turning them down."

"H-Huh?"

"I have plans this weekend. Besides, I told them it would be better to ask the teaching assistants for help. They’re far more capable and better teachers than a fellow student."

"...I-Is that so."

Suddenly embarrassed, Meirin blushed and whipped her head forward. ’Damn it! Why did I just fly off the handle like that?’

Simon gave the impression of being endlessly kind and considerate—a naive person who was bound to be taken advantage of. But the reality was a little different. He was good at drawing a line between his public and private life. And while she had often seen him act in his own self-interest, she had almost never seen him step up in a situation where he had nothing to gain, like some kind of pushover.

In that sense, was he even interested in dating? He seemed like the type who would just flatly refuse, claiming he was too busy with his own work.

’...But why am I even thinking about that?’

As Meirin was sighing to herself, she spotted Dick and Kamibarez waving from in front of the cafeteria.

"You were incredible today, Simon!"

"Phew! Every time you fight Hector, something huge happens!" Dick exclaimed, approaching with a grin and a raised fist. "You intentionally recreated that first Summoning class to break Hector’s spirit, didn’t you?"

Simon bumped his fist against Dick’s and smiled wryly. "That wasn’t my intention at all. I was just trying my best to win, and that’s how it turned out. I hope Hector doesn’t take it to heart."

The four of them chatted as they entered the cafeteria. Since they’d had two classes back-to-back, it was a late lunch.

Dick sat down and glanced at the menu. "I’ll have the chicken cutlet."

"Me too."

The boys made their choices quickly. Meirin, who had elegantly tied on an apron to protect her uniform from sauce, looked unconvinced.

"I know it’s not my place to say this, but you should try something new. How can your tastes be exactly the same as they were last semester?"

"Hehe, playing it safe is the best! A reckless spirit of adventure is the surest way to ruin your day!" Dick declared with a grin. "Let’s see what you, the one giving all the advice, ends up choosing."

"Hmph."

Meirin studied the menu with an intensely serious expression. "In that case, I’ll have the... with a side of soy-braised black beans."

"Ugh!"

Suddenly, the sound of retching echoed through the room. Meirin shot a glare at Dick, who frantically waved his hands, insisting it wasn’t him. She looked back at the menu.

"Soy-braised black beans..."

"Blegh!"

"Ugh!"

"Seriously, who the hell is that?" Meirin demanded, her face turning beet red as she shot up from her seat.

Students who had been eating were suddenly hunched over, vomiting on the floor, their faces contorted in pain. A few others nearby were clamping their hands over their mouths and sprinting for the restrooms.

"What’s wrong with them?"

"I think they’re from Class D."

Simon’s group, along with everyone else, looked around in confusion.

Kamibarez, who had been quietly reading her menu, carefully closed it and set it on the table. With an awkward laugh, she suggested, "Sh-Shall we try another cafeteria?"

The other three silently agreed, closing their menus.

---

But the other cafeterias were in the same state. A significant number of students were complaining of nausea, either running to the bathroom or throwing up on the floor. Meirin grumbled that she had completely lost her appetite.

In the end, the four of them went to the school store, grabbed sandwiches for a quick meal, and headed to their next class.

Roc Island

The last class of the day was Professor Byulya’s Venomology.

The students took their seats in the lecture hall of the Venomology building, each station equipped with its own magic cauldron.

’I can’t really imagine Professor Byulya teaching a class. I wonder what it’ll be like.’

As Simon waited with a mix of nervousness and concern, Byulya and her teaching assistants strode into the room. A collective look of horror spread across the students’ faces.

’There’s nowhere to look.’

Byulya wasn’t wearing the suit from the opening ceremony but had arrived in the same tattered, wild attire as before. She marched up to the podium, flopped into a chair, and flicked a finger. The flustered assistants immediately began taking attendance.

’Huh, those people...’

The assistants’ faces looked familiar. Dick, having noticed as well, whispered, "It’s Professor Lang’s old TA team."

Truthfully, Kizen’s administration and the elders didn’t look upon them favorably. While Lang was being assassinated and the Saintess was possessing Francesca, the teaching assistants who had been closest to him had failed to notice a thing. Of course, the entire academy had been deceived, so they couldn’t be solely blamed.

Regardless, with the change in professorship, Lang’s entire faculty had been destined for unemployment. As the TAs were packing their bags to leave Roc Island with heavy hearts, they received surprising news.

"I have to form a TA team? Ugh, what a pain! Just keep doing what you’ve been doing!"

Something unexpected had happened. The eccentric known as Byulya had arrived at Kizen with nothing but the clothes on her back, claiming the position of Venomology professor. She had decided to keep Lang’s TA team.

The assistants, who had been on the verge of being cast out with the stigma of incompetence for failing to protect their professor, were suddenly given a chance to restore their honor. Naturally, their loyalty to Byulya soared to the point where they would have offered up their own gallbladders for her.

The female TA who had taken attendance approached Byulya and bowed low. "Professor, all of Class A is present."

"Uh-huh."

After a long yawn, Byulya rose from her chair and strode to the front of the lectern. The students in the front row subtly avoided her gaze. Her rather revealing, tattered clothing was quite awkward for seventeen-year-olds to look at.

"Hmm."

She opened the textbook. There was still material left from the first semester. Kizen’s directive was to finish the current book before starting the new one for the second semester. The students all opened their books to the last page they had covered and waited. "Why the hell do they want me to teach this crap? I really don’t get it." After flipping through a few pages, she snapped the textbook shut.

Turning her gaze to the students, she flashed a grin, revealing sharp, triangular teeth like a shark’s. "It is customary to start the first class with a question. Very well. What is poison?"

She strode to the blackboard, picked up a piece of chalk, and wrote a single large character. Of course, not a single student could decipher it. It wasn’t the common continental language but the hieroglyphs of the Marlat tribe from the plains.

"The history of humanity is—"

Putting down the chalk, she slammed her fist on the blackboard.

"—also the history of poison."

The blackboard cracked and fragments rained down, but Byulya paid it no mind.

"If you examine all human deaths, the number of people who died fighting one another is surprisingly small. Poison is disease, and disease is contagious. I shouldn’t need to bring up examples like the Blood Plague that wiped out a third of the continent’s population, correct? The simple fact is that more people die from illness than live out their full lifespans."

Seeing the students’ blank faces, she grinned. "I see your blank faces. Was I being too broad? Fine, let’s discuss war, something you all seem to find so fascinating. In war, the ones who are stabbed to death are just insignificant foot soldiers. The world-shakers—the heroes and rulers—rarely die by the blade. A commander dying in battle only happens when the power disparity is extremely stewed."

She wrote another character next to the first one on the blackboard.

"That is why war is so inefficient. To eliminate one or two powerful individuals, how many soldiers must die? Historically, it was poison and disease that eliminated the ‘real’ movers and shakers. Poison is simple and convenient. You can poison someone merely by having them ingest, smell, or breathe it. Anyone who does not use it is a fool. Am I wrong?"

She held out her palm.

"Do you think necromancers, who call themselves pragmatists, would not study such a useful tool? A powerful and complex poison cannot be cured even by a priest’s purification. Or, by the time they cast it, the target’s organs are already liquefied. That is the level we must aim for."

She tossed the chalk aside and stepped forward again. "Enough with the lengthy introduction. Your vice-chancellor insisted on it. Now, let us begin my Venomology practical!"

As the TAs scrambled into action, Simon swallowed hard. ’What on earth kind of class is she planning?’