Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner-Chapter 422: Episode

Day four in Eskyl Village.

Eskyl had its own version of a weekend, a single day of rest from his teaching duties. Of course, that didn’t apply to Simon.

"Hnngh!"

With his sleeves rolled high, Simon let out a grunt, and a rotten tree root, buried deep, was ripped from the frozen soil. The watching adults gasped.

"Mr. Sean is incredibly strong!"

"Priests are really something else!"

Simon groaned and collapsed onto the ground, surrounded by the rocks and splintered wood he had unearthed.

’I’m... going to die.’

His forearms screamed in protest, and his back throbbed. As he wiped the sweat from his brow, the farmer he’d befriended offered him a bowl of cold water.

"Here, drink up."

"Thank you!"

"You’re truly amazing! You finished a job that would’ve taken a fortnight in a single day, and all by yourself!"

"I did a lot of this back home."

Simon grabbed the bowl and drank greedily, water dribbling down his chin. He didn’t care.

"A fine young man like you is a rare sight these days."

"Leave the cleanup to us!" the other adults called, moving to clear the debris.

"We’re truly grateful," the farmer said, perching on a nearby tree stump. "It must be tough enough being a teacher, let alone going out of your way to help with this kind of hard labor."

"I’m a member of the village for now," Simon replied. "It’s only natural that I help."

"Haha! You sure know how to get on the adults’ good side."

Of course, he had a reason for taking on such grueling work: information gathering. As he drank, Simon looked for the right moment to ask his questions.

’...Still, I can’t get used to this.’

Beyond the transparent barrier, the blizzard raged on, a stark contrast to the sweat-drenched field where he stood. It was a remarkably well-made barrier.

"Sir," Simon began.

"Hm?"

"I’ve had a question on my mind while staying here."

"Oh! What is it? I’ll explain anything you need!"

This was exactly the kind of enthusiastic cooperation he had spent four days of back-breaking labor to earn. Simon raised an arm and pointed outside.

"That severe cold."

"Ah!"

"It’s getting stronger, and it’s even covered the lower village of Kula. Do you happen to know why?"

The farmer’s broad smile faltered.

"Why are you curious about that?"

’Oops.’ Had he asked too sensitive a question before earning their complete trust? Cold sweat prickled the back of his neck, but he quickly covered his tracks.

"Oh, it’s just... if the cold were to stop, we wouldn’t have to keep expanding the barrier little by little to cultivate the frozen ground. I was just wondering why it’s lasting so long."

The farmer closed his eyes for a moment before speaking. "It is because Lady Yukionna is angered."

There it was again. That name, ’Yukionna’.

"Is... Lady Yukionna real? I’m sorry if that’s an inappropriate question."

"Ah, I understand. It’s a hard story for an outsider to believe. I was an outsider once myself." He explained that in his youth, he’d fallen for a Mizenasi woman and followed her all the way here. "Back then, my wife, you see...!"

Though he had no idea why he was listening to a stranger’s family history, Simon nodded along enthusiastically.

"...And that’s what happened! Anyway, to answer your question: yes. Lady Yukionna definitely exists. You can’t help but believe it when you live in this village."

"What do you mean?"

According to the farmer, the village held a grand ceremony once a year to honor Lady Yukionna. They would prepare a feast in the village hall, close all the doors except the back one, and wait.

"A short while later, we’d hear footsteps behind the door, followed by the sound of someone munching and crunching away at the food!"

Simon gulped at the farmer’s vivid account.

"And when the eating stopped, the footsteps would fade away! I found it so hard to believe that I secretly peeked through the window, and what do you know!" The farmer gave a sinister smile and wiggled his fingers. "A woman in white mourning clothes, with disheveled gray hair and eyes and lips as red as blood, was running barefoot! Then she turned and looked right at me! A chill ran down my entire spine...! Yes. That was no human."

The description matched the woman Simon had seen perfectly. A faint tremor ran through his shoulders.

"Hehe! Should I stop if you’re scared?"

"N-No, sir!"

As a necromancer, he couldn’t afford to be afraid of ghost stories.

"And that’s not all! There was a time when the cold spell lasted for months, but the sky would clear up perfectly only on the day the Mizenasi offered a ’sacrifice’ to Lady Yukionna! Isn’t that strange?"

Simon leaned forward.

"What is the ’sacrifice’ offered to Lady Yukionna?"

At that, the farmer froze, clapping a hand over his mouth in horror. He glanced around nervously.

"Ha! Haha! Did I just say sacrifice?"

"Yes. You said it exactly like that."

"I-I must have misspoken! Haha! Well. Shall we get back to w-work?"

Simon stared at the man’s back as he trembled and frantically scanned his surroundings.

---

"Teacher Leah! Teacher!"

"Hurry!"

Even on the one precious day off a week, the children had come to visit Lethe’s house.

’Just when I thought I could rest, they show up on a holiday,’ she lamented inwardly.

Three children had surrounded her on the bed, begging her to read to them.

’Kids! Teachers are human, too!’

She wanted to scream, but she maintained her professional composure, smiling brightly.

"Shall we enter the world of fairytales, then?"

"Yeees!"

"Yay!"

Lethe opened the well-worn storybook. It was so tattered from countless readings that the pages were on the verge of tearing off. It was clearly a treasured book, so she turned them with care.

"Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful girl," she began, her gentle voice filling the room. The children lay down, their faces peaceful and content as they focused on the story. "The girl was born on a snow-covered mountain. But the mountain was too cold, so the girl and her people came down to the warm southern lands. There, they built houses, tilled fields, and lived happily."

She carefully turned a page that was nearly a third torn off. "Then one day, the girl discovered sailors from a shipwreck lying on the beach! She brought them to the village and nursed them back to health."

"Thankfully, they awoke. They were adventurers! Strong and skillful, they built houses for the girl and her people. They taught them how to farm and how to easily start a fire. The villagers and the adventurers spent many joyful days together."

Lethe smiled as she turned the page. It was a simple, heartwarming story. The children wiggled under the blankets in delight.

"But one day, it was time to say goodbye. The adventurers had repaired their ship and had to return to their kingdom. They comforted the crying girl and boarded their ship. As they waved, they made a vow: that they would surely return one day."

The sound of soft sniffling filled the air. ’How sweet,’ Lethe thought, turning the page.

"A long time passed. The girl sat on the beach every day, waiting. But then, one day, the adventurers really did return! And they brought many people with them. The wide sea was filled with their boats!"

"The adventurers pleaded with the girl and her people. ’Our kingdom is being ravaged by bandits. Please let us live here.’ The villagers gladly welcomed them."

With a soft rustle of paper, she turned the next page, and paused. The illustrations had suddenly become darker, almost frightening for a children’s book. The script below had also changed, the letters sharp and forceful.

"The adventurers and the kingdom’s people said, ’Just as we built you houses before, this time we will build a great city’."

"They burned the forest where the animals lived and built a road. They tore up the sparkling beach to build a port, and they cut down the guardian tree the villagers cherished to make furniture."

"No!"

"Stop it!" the children cried out.

"The girl and her people begged them to stop, but the adventurers told them to trust them. They only said that if they waited, a better village would be built."

"More people from the kingdom continued to arrive by sea. When there were too many, they began to divide the land. ’This is my land, that is your land.’ The girl and her people were bewildered. ’Nature belongs to all of us,’ they said. ’No one can own it.’ But the adventurers and the kingdom’s people would not listen. And so, the next morning..."

She flipped the page, her voice growing somber. "There was no land left for the girl and her people."

The children burst into tears. One small fist pounded the bed in frustration.

"Driven from their homes, the girl and her people returned to the cold mountain. There, they made a resolution: one day, they would drive out the adventurers and the kingdom’s people and return to the warm lands."

"But the betrayal had broken the girl’s spirit, and she had grown weak. She could not make it to the top of the mountain and froze to death. Filled with rage and vowing revenge, her people buried her in the snow."

Lethe’s trembling hand turned the final page.

She almost gasped when she saw the last illustration. Faded gray hair, blood-red eyes, and a face twisted in hatred and rage. It was so terrifyingly real it hardly looked like a drawing. Below it, the story ended with a single, chilling line.

"And the girl arose."

---

That evening, Simon and Lethe met back at their lodging after the children had gone home.

"Find anything?" Lethe asked, snapping her fingers to activate a soundproofing magic circle.

"Yeah. A lot."

"Same here. Let’s share what we’ve learned." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

Simon recounted the farmer’s story about Lady Yukionna and the sacrifice, along with other tidbits he’d gathered. Lethe, in turn, shared the dark fairytale and the information she had coaxed out of Petria.

"Well, that pretty much pieces it all together," Lethe said, gazing out the window.

"You’ve figured it out?"

"Yes." She nodded, her expression serious. "It’s time we uncovered the truth about this monstrous village."