Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner-Chapter 395: Episode

A third form of magic, born from the impossible fusion of Jet-Black and Divinity, had entered the world.

Void. "That’s Impossible...!"

The sight alone sent a spike of pain through Silage’s skull. The union of two absolute opposites! He would sooner believe a demon and an angel had conceived a child. In that moment, his centuries of research, his relentless quest for truth, felt utterly invalidated, torn down by a power that should not exist.

The necromancer in him screamed to analyze it, to categorize it, but the effort only brought a blinding headache and a profound sense of futility. He needed a blade. If he’d had a knife, he would have driven it through his own skull to make the feeling stop. His forehead throbbed, his organs twisted, and drool streamed from his lips. The sight alone threatened to shatter his sanity.

"Impossible!"

He had to erase that thing from his sight. Responding to his will, the enhanced Blood Zombies shot forward like arrows.

[Boy!]

"It’s all right, Pier."

Simon calmly motioned for Pier to stay back, then brought the sphere of Void to his chest.

’Sssssssssss—’

The Void enveloped him, transforming into a garment of pure energy. A cloak of deep indigo, shimmering as if woven from the cosmos itself, wrapped gently around his body, its edges fluttering like captured night.

Simon was now wearing the void.

"-Uwaaaaaah!"

The Blood Zombies lunged, their jaws aiming for his neck.

They weren’t even permitted to draw close. Before they could touch him, their bodies dissolved into black ash and scattered on the wind.

In an instant, all twenty zombies that had surrounded him were gone, reduced to dust. An eerie silence fell, as if they had never been there at all.

"What in the world is that!" Silage roared, slamming his palms together with a sharp ’CLAP!’ and thrusting them forward.

Countless drops of blood sprayed from his hands, erupting into a continuous barrage of crimson explosions.

’Step. Step.’

Through the heart of that fiery chaos, Simon advanced, his face an expressionless mask. He was utterly untouched, without a single scratch. It was a power beyond all measure, one that defied the very laws of the world.

Silage gasped.

Silage glanced down in shock. His feet were being dragged across the sand, pulling him inexorably toward Simon. It wasn’t just him. Droplets of blood, rock fragments, and the severed limbs of corpses were all being drawn in.

’Gravity?’

The empty void craved substance, pulling everything around it into its embrace. Yet nothing it consumed ever reached Simon; it simply turned to ash and vanished. All of creation was being deleted in his presence. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

"This is a bit troublesome," Simon muttered, touching a finger to his void-woven robe. The gravitational pull became selective. The wind, sand, and light were no longer drawn in, but Silage remained a target. He desperately channeled Jet-Black into his legs, trying to anchor himself.

"Aaaaaaaaargh!!"

He raised his arms, his eyes bloodshot with fury. The culmination of centuries of work was within his grasp. The Apostle’s resurrection was a perfect plan. No one, not even Nephthys herself, could have stopped it.

And yet! ’To be thwarted by a mere brat like this!’

Silage’s fingers danced, activating his signature Bloodstone Magic. Behind him, a lattice of red jewels rose from the ground, forming a massive structure.

’Silage Original – Longinus’

The structure shattered, unleashing a spear of pure, refined blood. It was the same spell that had sealed the dungeon lord in a single blow.

However.

’Swoosh!’

Even Longinus was simply consumed, vanishing as if it had been swallowed by the void.

Silage’s breath hitched.

In the same instant, Silage felt an intense force tear through him. He slowly turned his head. A quarter of his torso was gone, ripped away to reveal a gruesome, bloody cavity. Behind him, the very spear he had just launched was now flying in the opposite direction.

"Aaargh!"

He staggered and collapsed. As the Jet-Black faded from his legs, the void’s gravity seized him again, dragging him helplessly toward Simon. The distance between them shrank with every step Simon took.

"Just what the hell are you!" Silage shrieked, his voice raw with desperation. "How can a power like that even exist!"

Simon offered no reply. The question wasn’t worth answering.

’Dammit!’

Having lived for ages, Silage’s ambition and will to survive had become a ravenous, obsessive force. Gushing blood, he hastily drew a magic circle on his own body and activated it.

’BOOM!’

A blood explosion erupted from his own flesh. Simon paused, his brow furrowed. Beyond the crimson blast, a shrunken, panting Silage scrambled away on all fours.

"It’s not... It’s not over yet!"

A crimson portal materialized before him, identical to the one he’d used to summon his cultists.

"The Apostle shall be resurrected!" he screamed, diving through the portal like a cornered animal.

As it snapped shut, the cultists fighting the undead stared in bewildered disbelief.

"The Archbishop... he fled!"

"Did he just abandon us?"

’SMACK!’

Prince decked a cultist with a single punch, his face a mask of contempt.

[Of course he did! I’ll never understand why you people fall for such obvious charlatans!]

Nearby, Erzebet cupped her cheeks, her expression one of pure ecstasy.

[...You are so magnificent!]

Behind her, a line of cultists hung trussed in spiderwebs like freshly caught prey.

’CRACKLE!’

As the two Ancient Undead chattered, a black-winged figure descended from the sky, kicking up a cloud of dust.

[Akemus!]

He held the third bishop, Anvante, in a brutal chokehold.

"Kuaargh!"

Anvante’s prized tonfas lay shattered at his feet.

[I have destroyed his core. We will interrogate him to determine where that fiend Silage has fled.]

Prince scoffed.

"[Hmph! You’re last, Akemus! The slowest of all! You should learn a thing or two from your seniors!]"

[But, everyone,] Erzebet interjected, pointing toward Simon. [The Lord Commander is doing something.]

Simon was gathering the Void, drawing the cloak of energy into his right hand.

’Woooooosh!’

The very air began to vibrate as sand swirled into a nocturnal vortex. The entire desert trembled from the immense wave of power.

[Lo-Lord Commander?]

Simon’s attack was not yet over.

’I will find you.’

He could not let Silage escape. Pushing his concentration to its absolute limit, Simon closed his eyes. Darkness flooded his vision, replaced by the star-dusted void he had shared with the Existence.

’Find him!’

Simon’s consciousness tore through space and time, peering into another dimension. His perspective spun wildly as the universe around him expanded and contracted. The search was brief. Using his own location as an anchor, he sifted through the cosmos until he found it.

A single, precarious red dot flickering in the darkness. It was unmistakably Silage.

"Did you think you could escape?"

His eyes still closed, Simon raised his hands. The Void shifted, the garment transforming into his signature weapon: a greatsword forged from nothingness. With his eyes shut, his entire being focused on Silage’s location.

’I will cut you down!’

---

In the Shahed Kingdom Territory at the Blood Cult Dark Alliance General Headquarters.

Only a select few knew that the cult’s main stronghold was hidden within the Shahed Kingdom. To outsiders, it was a desolate wasteland, but in truth, a powerful barrier woven from the Blood Cult’s dark arts concealed the entire facility. The headquarters itself was a sprawling complex of interconnected pipes and structures, a vast and horrific research laboratory. The screams of test subjects and monsters echoed from within, a testament to the atrocities committed there.

And into this heart of darkness...

’Vwooooom!’

A crimson portal tore open, and a naked, blood-soaked man stumbled out.

"Kuhuk! Cough! Cough!"

He collapsed to the floor, vomiting thick clots of blood.

"Intruder!"

The unauthorized portal’s appearance sent alarms blaring through the headquarters. Researchers in white coats swarmed the area.

"Wh-what’s with that beggar?"

"Archbishop Silage!"

A wave of shocked murmurs spread through the crowd. He was so haggard, so utterly broken, that it was impossible to believe this was the man who had laid the foundation of the Blood Cult over centuries. A senior researcher rushed to his side.

"Why have you returned? You said the blood portal would only be opened for the Apostle’s resurrection...!"

"The Elder! Where is the Elder!" Silage screamed, ignoring the question.

"Y-yes? The Elder has been at the headquarters for over two years now."

"Dammit!!"

Blood dripping from his lips, Silage struggled to his feet. "We must prepare countermeasures at once!"

"What?"

"I saw it with my own eyes! Jet-Black and Divinity! It was Jet-Black and Divinity!"

The researchers stared, bewildered by their Archbishop’s frantic, almost insane cries.

"S-so what about—"

’GRAB!’

Silage seized the senior researcher by the shoulders, his face inches away.

"He combined them!!"

A spray of bloody spittle struck the researcher’s face. The man flinched, struggling against the iron grip.

"Ugh! W-what are you doing!"

"He combined them! Those two opposing forces!"

"L-let go of me!"

Silage threw the researcher aside and ran. He just kept running. What had happened in that desert defied belief, but it was real. He had made that... thing... an enemy of the Blood Cult. He had to prepare.

’SLAM!’

He burst through the laboratory doors into the open air, only to freeze, his expression hardening into one of pure terror.

"Archbishop!"

The other researchers scrambled out behind him.

"Ah!"

"The sky...!"

’Crack... Crackle...’

The sky was shattering.

A deep indigo radiance enveloped the entire hidden dimension. Lab equipment and metal scraps began to float into the air, lifted by an unseen force. That dark blue power was unmistakably...!

[Did you think you could escape?]

The thunderous voice struck his mind like a physical blow, and Silage collapsed, flailing on the ground.

"Ah. Aaaaaah. Aaaaaah!"

"Archbishop!"

The researchers rushed toward him.

"Hide me! Hide me, I said!"

As Silage screamed in terror, at that exact same moment, in the same sliver of time...

’Shing!’

Back in the world of sand, Simon held the greatsword of Void at his side.

’It doesn’t matter where you are, or where you run.’

The air trembled as the desert sands swirled around him. The entire dimension vibrated with an impossible power. Aware of Silage’s precise location, Simon brought the greatsword back, preparing to swing. Space itself distorted around him.

[The entire dimension—]

His waist turned, his arms moved. He felt the immense weight of the blade as it swung, pouring every ounce of his strength and will into the singular, perfect motion.

[—gets sliced apart!!]

The greatsword of Void tore through the air, leaving a shimmering, galaxy-like scar in its wake.

And the strike, with perfect accuracy, leaped across two dimensions, traversed the continent, passed over the Shahed Kingdom, and finally reached the Blood Cult’s headquarters.

It carved through everything in its path.

"Ah...!"

Silage’s head flew from his shoulders, his eyes wide in disbelief. The last thing he ever saw was the indigo slash of the void that had split his world in two.

’Thud.’

Simon lowered the Void, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and opened his eyes.

’I told you it was useless, no matter where you ran.’

In the desert sky above, a massive, shimmering scar in reality slowly began to fade.