Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner-Chapter 398: Episode

Nephthys sank into a long, deep contemplation. She sat on the bed as still as a statue, her eyes shut tight and her hands resting neatly on her knees.

Her silver hair, soft as velvet, fluttered in the breeze. A few strands drifted into her mouth, but she was so focused she didn’t seem to notice—

"Pfft!’ Ugh, what is this!"

—or perhaps not. Casually brushing the hair from her face, Nephthys met Simon’s gaze.

"Hmm... alright. May I answer you honestly?"

"Yes."

Simon straightened his posture, his expression serious.

"First, you need to understand one thing. This isn’t a problem that ends just because I declare, ‘I will pardon the sins of the 7th Legion!’"

She placed her palms on the bed and leaned back.

"They killed fellow necromancers for the sake of priests, correct? It was an unprecedented event, so public opinion is extremely hostile. The elders, the high-ranking necromancers, and especially the survivors and their families—they’re all watching our every move."

"I-I suppose so."

Simon’s head sank low. Was this a truth he would have to hide forever?

"However!"

Nephthys raised a single, slender finger.

"My answer wasn’t no. It will just take time. It’s possible if we gradually cool the public outrage and change people’s perceptions from the ground up."

At her words, Simon’s head shot up.

"Is it really possible to change their perception?"

"Mhm. Of course, Richard’s sin itself won’t disappear easily, but we can push the narrative that ‘Simon’s Legion’ and ‘Richard’s Legion’ are fundamentally different! We can make a strong case that the Ancient Undead were just following orders, and that it’s foolish to bury a powerful force capable of standing against the Holy Federation because of the past."

Nephthys met Simon’s eyes and smiled brightly.

"Of course, if you had failed to adapt at Kizen and remained just another mediocre necromancer, the elders wouldn’t have hesitated to get rid of you and appoint a new commander."

"...Ah."

"But the influence of the name Simon Polentia is growing by the day."

She flopped back onto the bed, her translucent silver hair fanning out over the sheets.

"You’re Special Admission No. 1, and you passed the promotion exam in first place. On top of that, you fought a Saintess and thwarted the dark schemes of the Blood Cult. You’re doing exceptionally well. And being acknowledged within Kizen is the same as being acknowledged by the entire Dark Alliance."

Her lake-like eyes fixed on Simon.

"So keep working hard. The more your influence grows, the easier it will be for me to lay the groundwork for changing the public’s opinion of the 7th Legion."

It was a confirmation, plain and simple. Simon cheered internally and bowed his head deeply.

"Thank you! I shall do my best, Lady Nephthys."

Nephthys hopped up and gently patted Simon’s head.

"Mhm, good boy."

Simon let out an embarrassed laugh. It felt strange to be praised by a girl who looked so much younger than him.

’I never expected it to be resolved all at once,’ he thought. ’But if it’s Lady Nephthys...’

He had witnessed her political prowess and her mastery of the media firsthand during the recent incident. Seeing her skill, he could trust her promise to personally lay the groundwork for the 7th Legion’s return.

"Of course," Nephthys said, removing her hand from his head. She clasped her hands behind her back and hopped off the bed. "This doesn’t completely fulfill your request, so I’ll give you a personal gift later. Is that okay?"

"A-A gift?"

"Yep! But it’s a secret for now. It’s a new semester present!"

She gave him a cute wink.

"Anyway! Congratulations on your promotion to the second year at Kizen, Simon!"

---

After Nephthys left, the medical staff came in to perform a detailed examination. Simon was desperate to leave, but his current condition made a discharge impossible. The staff re-emphasized the need for ‘absolute rest’ before departing.

’...Is everyone gone now?’

Once the last of the staff had left, Simon scanned the room. After checking several times that he was alone, he closed the window and drew the curtains.

’Good.’

In truth, he’d been on edge ever since he woke up. He had been asleep for five whole days—far more time had passed than he’d realized.

’I hope I can still remember the feeling.’

He thought of the power he had used against Silage, the power called Void. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

’I’m sorry, but these memories will be forgotten when you return. If you remember them, your brain will burn up.’

The being who had taught him about Void had warned him he wouldn’t remember. And while it was true that he had received Void as a gift, using it required a transcendent theory that didn’t even exist on the continent, an unimaginable amount of knowledge. Now, five days later, with all that information gone, there was no way he could use it. He felt like a train conductor who had lost his entire train, left holding only the control lever.

’Well, it’s still a power I’ve used before.’

He didn’t expect to replicate it perfectly. But if he could just imitate it, even partially, he would become immensely stronger. And there was another reason he had to reproduce the technique.

’I can’t use Herseva in front of people anymore.’

He had used her in a duel evaluation in front of a large crowd and had even presented a thesis on her to a group of researchers. What would they think if Herseva, who used her own unique Jet-Black, suddenly started wielding Simon’s? And what if the mummies she summoned used it as well? It would be impossible not to suspect him as her commander.

’Alright. I can’t afford to waste time lying around.’

His goal set, Simon sat up on the bed and held out his palms.

’Jet-Black.’

The dark energy surged from his right hand.

’Divinity.’

His left hand remained inert. He’d hit a wall right at the start. Back then, the power had manifested the moment he opened his palm. He closed his eyes, concentrating.

’I can do anything!’

Finally, divine energy flowed from his left hand. Simon smiled in satisfaction and glanced at his right.

"...This is driving me crazy."

The moment the divinity appeared, the Jet-Black vanished. He collapsed back onto the bed with a groan. This was harder than he’d thought. He could handle either Jet-Black or divinity, but wielding both simultaneously was on a completely different level.

Simon closed his eyes, trying to recall the sensation from that day.

’Yes, I have to get the hang of it now, while the feeling still lingers in my body.’

He decided to start with the basics.

Jet-Black was created by drawing mana from the atmosphere through breathing, then passing it through his core. He could store it there and draw upon it as needed.

Divinity worked differently. It required a blind, spiritual faith, manifesting the moment internal mana was brought outside the body. It also consumed a great deal of mental energy.

’That’s it!’

Simon slapped his knee.

’The moment I open my core, Jet-Black spreads throughout my entire body. My time at Kizen has ingrained the habits of a necromancer in me.’

This time, he consciously controlled his Jet-Black, allowing it to spread only to his right side while reserving his left for divinity.

"Jet-Black."

He drew out only a small amount, letting it rise from his right hand. While consciously maintaining that state, he focused.

"I can do anything!"

Divinity bloomed in his left hand. He quickly glanced to his right. The Jet-Black was wavering, but a steady supply from his heart kept it stable.

"It worked! Now, to combine these two powers...!"

Simon clapped his hands together.

"Combine...!"

"Wh-What’s going on!"

A ward attendant, hearing the explosion, threw open the door to Simon’s room in alarm.

’Thud, thud, thud—’

It was a mana explosion. The bed was shattered, and debris rained from the ceiling. Sprawled in the middle of the wreckage, Simon waved a hand.

"I-It’s nothing!"

Afterward, he received a stern lecture for using black magic in the hospital ward.

---

Simon was moved to a new room. Fortunately, an order had come down from Nephthys to prioritize his convenience above all else, so the hospital staff didn’t make a big issue of it. Everything was handled swiftly.

"I have a favor to ask!"

Just as the ward doctor, who had been lecturing him for nearly thirty minutes, was about to leave, Simon stopped him. The doctor turned.

"...What is it, Simon?"

"Could you possibly call Professor Parahan from the first-year Defense Against Divinity class for me?"

At those words, a fiery rage erupted from the doctor.

"...Are you telling me you want to summon a priest into this sacred ward?!"

A short while later...

"Hahaha! It’s a relief to see you’re safe, my boy!"

Professor Parahan, dressed in a white uniform with a long white beard, had indeed come to Simon’s room. Peeking over his shoulder were two kittens.

’Meow!’

"Whitey! Blackey!"

The moment the cats saw Simon, they leaped down and made a huge fuss, rubbing against him and meowing for attention.

"To bring a priest and even pets into this sacred ward! ’Ugh!" the doctor trembled, while the attendants tried to placate him with strained smiles. Regardless of their feelings, Nephthys’s orders were absolute.

’Click.’

The door closed, leaving Simon and Parahan alone.

"To call me to such a sensitive place, haha!"

Parahan chuckled, stroking his beard.

"As you can see, I am a priest. I must be careful with my conduct."

"My apologies. I had something I needed to discuss with you urgently."

Simon briefly explained the situation—the story of the Void. He told him how, during the fight with Silage, he had cast a curse called ‘Compellonia’ on himself. Though he couldn’t remember how, he had combined Jet-Black and divinity to fight.

"...A story this old man finds hard to believe," Parahan said, shaking his head. "In all my long years, I have never heard of such a thing. Could it be you saw an illusion while you were unconscious?"

Parahan was clearly unconvinced. Silage had been the same, unable to believe it even after seeing it with his own eyes. It seemed that the longer one specialized in a field, be it necromancy or priesthood, the more impossible such a concept seemed.

But convincing Parahan wasn’t the issue.

"I have a favor to ask."

Simon asked him to install the same magic circles that concealed the presence of divinity that he had placed in his home and lab. Parahan readily agreed, drawing them behind the bed and in the corners of the walls to avoid notice, even adding a noise-canceling magic circle.

"Thank you so much, Professor!"

Simon bowed deeply.

"I don’t know if what you saw was real, but the desire to explore something new is never a bad thing. I hope you find success."

Whitey, who had climbed onto Parahan’s head, let out a soft meow.

---

Combining Jet-Black and divinity. As he continued this insane experiment, he started to get the hang of it.

By weakening the overall power of both attributes and lowering the ratio of divinity, he could buy himself a fraction of a second. Since divinity inherently had the upper hand, reducing its proportion was key.

However...

’Boooom!’

Failure again.

When the two forces collided, they coexisted for less than a tenth of a second before either exploding or the divinity consumed the Jet-Black. True coexistence seemed impossible.

’I’m exhausted.’

Evening had already fallen. Utterly spent, Simon lay sprawled on the bed.

’Did I really just hallucinate it all?’

He moved his hands, relying on muscle memory.

’Like this... and like this... It worked when I just mixed them...’

’Knock, knock.’

A knock at the door. Startled, Simon quickly erased the lingering traces of divinity, which were siphoned away by the drain-like magic circle Parahan had installed.

"Yes, come in."

’Click.’

The door opened, and a ward attendant entered.

"Simon? It’s time for your shot."

The attendant held up a syringe, her tongue flicking over her lips.

"Now! Hurry up, take off your pants and underwear, and lie face down on the bed!"

Simon’s expression turned to ice.

"Don’t be ridiculous, Erze."

[Aww,] the attendant sighed in disappointment. Her entire body seemed to melt, transforming into a pink-haired girl in a Kizen uniform. It was the form of ‘Elizabeth Waffer,’ a sight he hadn’t seen in a while.

"No one saw you, right?"

[Of course not! Who do you take me for? I’m a spy talented enough to bypass Kizen’s own surveillance wards!]

"Good. Let’s go."

Simon pulled a robe from his subspace, threw it on, and stood up.

"We have to be back by morning."