Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner-Chapter 86: Episode

Fun. For a brief moment, Simon’s mind raced. Did she truly find toying with people like this enjoyable? Or was this all an act to unsettle him? "Why did you bring me here, Serne Aindark?"

At his words, the girl in the tree descended lightly, her fall so slow it was as if gravity had less of a hold on her. Platinum blonde hair, flawless features, and, like Lorraine, an intimidating aura that could cow anyone into submission. The presence of a monarch. She was just as he remembered from the teleportation circle—an opponent who was overwhelming just to be near. "Because I wanted to talk to you," she said, her voice soft and lilting. Simon thought it was the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. But while his ears were pleased, his brain was screaming warnings. Goosebumps prickled his skin. "Get to the point," Simon said, his voice sharp. "This is the third time we’ve met. They say if you meet three times, you’re fated."

He begged to differ. "You don’t seem to agree. Well, fine." Her demeanor was completely different from their first encounter. Where she had once projected the image of a cultured, polite heiress, she now radiated the cunning of a little devil. This, Simon suspected, was much closer to her true nature. She clasped her hands behind her back and turned in a slow circle. "Simon Polentia. Or perhaps I should call you this?" An eerie smile played on her lips. "The Seventh Legion Commander."

His heart began to hammer against his ribs. "Is Pier doing well? It seems Erzebet didn’t come with you. Or perhaps she’s transformed into someone else on this island?"

The secrets he guarded with his life were spilling from her lips as if they were common knowledge. "You...!"

"Oh, don’t worry. We’re inside a barrier I created. There’s no chance of an observer peeking or eavesdropping."

"How do you know all this?"

Bluffing was useless against an opponent who already knew so much. She gave him a soft, reassuring smile, as if telling him not to rush. "I appreciate you admitting it so readily, so I’ll tell you. Do you remember the second place we met?"

"Before we left for the mission, at the teleportation circle."

"At that time, the only first-years going to the Kingdom of Kalos were you and me." She lightly clapped her hands together. "Don’t you find that a little strange?"

Simon bit his lip. "You’ve been watching me since then."

"Yes. And in fact, even earlier than that."

She closed her eyes, tapping her fingers in the air. "It’s a top Kizen secret, but the Ivory Tower was keeping a close watch on the ruins Nephthys sealed. I personally went and installed an alarm that would activate when the ruins opened. A few days later, it went off. I hurried over, and, my goodness..." She smiled. "You had become the Legion Commander."

’So that’s when it started.’ Simon’s mind reeled. "Then how did you find out about Erzebet?"

"Isn’t that obvious, too? When we teleported together, I also stopped by Arnish to observe you. I read the memories of the lord, the captain of the guard, the soldiers, the thieves’ guild members, the dancers... and," her lips parted, "even Ellen Zile, whom you let go. Do you realize what a dangerous crime that is? To intentionally spare a Priest."

The pressure slowly tightened around his neck like a noose. Simon forced a smile.

"...At the time, Ellen was unaffiliated. We’re in a truce right now. Rather than causing trouble by killing an innocent citizen of the Holy Federation, it was a magnanimous decision to release her in accordance with the treaty on prisoners. I don’t think it was a serious crime."

"Hmm, you’re quite the silver-tongue. Then again, there’s no need to bring up such trivial matters with you, is there?" She laughed. "After all, you’re a criminal who has committed first-degree treason."

He said nothing. "Did you know that the moment you made a pact with Pier’s Legion—which rebelled against the Dark Alliance—you were branded a traitor as well? This is a grave matter, so much so that it wouldn’t be strange for this exam to be halted immediately and for Kizen’s crows from all over the continent to descend upon this island."

Simon slowly pressed his fingers to his forehead. "This is absurd..."

"Any more excuses?"

"If you know all that, then report me to Kizen and have me put on trial. Why are you bothering to tell me about it?"

"It seems we’ve finally set the stage for the main topic." She beamed, her eyes crinkling. "Come to the Ivory Tower, Simon."

A recruitment offer from the Ivory Tower, right here and now. Simon felt the situation taking a bizarre turn. ’Just a little more. I just need to draw out a little more.’

"If you want to recruit me, you should join the official recruitment war after I graduate. With the Ivory Tower’s wealth and power, I doubt you’d lose."

"I don’t want a Kizen graduate whose loyalties are already sworn to Kizen."

"...What do you mean by that?"

She smiled sweetly. "Aren’t you curious? Kizen is just a school. So why is a mere academic institution ruling over half the continent?"

Of course, he had wondered about that before. "Let’s take the nearby Kingdom of Dresden as an example." She held up her fingers. "Four of Dresden’s five great generals are from Kizen. Seventeen of the twenty Royal Knights are from Kizen. The Minister of General Affairs, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, the Minister of Defense. And even..." She folded all her fingers and clasped her hands behind her back. "The second-in-command, the Prime Minister, is from Kizen."

He was speechless. "Do you understand now? The most powerful figures in the Alliance are all in it together, a network of seniors and juniors. They are prouder of graduating from Kizen than anything else, and they form a kind of cartel. They are more loyal to Kizen than to the nations or institutions that pay their salaries and grant them power."

This was the case not only in Dresden but in most of the Dark Alliance nations. It was no exaggeration to say that, aside from the talent brought in by the royal families to keep the ‘Kizen Cartel’ in check, almost all key positions were held by Kizen graduates or their cronies. Kizen held all the talent in its hands. But when it came to placing just anyone in a key position, the abilities and work performance of Kizen graduates were on a transcendent level. From a nation’s perspective, possessing talent from Kizen was essential to gain a stronger voice in the Dark Alliance. "Alright. The reason you’re bringing this up..." Simon looked up at her. "Is because you need someone free from Kizen’s influence, someone who will be completely loyal only to the Ivory Tower."

"You’re as sharp as I thought. I like how quickly this conversation is moving."

They wanted a pure member of the Ivory Tower, not a Kizen graduate who also belonged to the Ivory Tower. It was understandable. "You don’t think you have a choice, do you?" Serne’s eyes crinkled into a gentle smile. "Be executed for treason, or join the Ivory Tower."

He remained silent. "Still, this is a first-rate organization, and it’s quite nice, you know? Your peer, Meirin, is here, and whether it’s money or power, you can have as much as you want..."

"Let me ask just one thing."

Simon asked in a serious voice. "Do you need my power alone? Or do you need the power of the Legion?"

She smiled faintly. "Let’s just say both. For courtesy’s sake."

"What I’m concerned about is..." Simon bit his lip. "I can’t trust you people yet. How can you prove that I won’t have my Legion taken from me if I go to the Ivory Tower?"

She blinked. "My, your self-esteem is lower than I expected. I would think you wouldn’t need to worry about such things if you just prove your abilities."

He remained silent.

"Well, very good," Serne continued, her voice as smooth as silk. "Join the Ivory Tower, and I, as its heir, promise to help you maintain your Legion. Now, give me your answer, Simon Polentia."

Simon exhaled a long, slow breath. He was being swept away by her rhythm, caught in her current. ’I have to turn this around.’ He took a deep, centering breath and circulated his Jet-Black. The trembling in his body gradually subsided, and the frantic thoughts scattered.

Finally, with his mind clear and cold, Simon met her gaze.

’His whole demeanor has changed,’ she noted, sensing the shift in him. But a moment of composure would not solve his problem.

"Serne," Simon began, the corner of his mouth twisting into a smirk. "You’re not very good at politics, are you?"

Her brow furrowed.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Laying all your cards on the table to threaten someone," Simon clarified. "It’s a bad habit."

Serne had been born into power. She never needed complex strategies; her demands were met with a simple yes or no. Life or death. No one was free from her ultimatums. To her, hiding one’s hand was a tactic for the weak. And that was her mistake.

"You can never tell Kizen that I’m a Legion Commander," Simon stated, his voice firm.

This time, she had miscalculated.

"Oh? And why do you think that?" she purred.

"Because you want to break away from Kizen, no matter what it takes."

For the first time, she was silent.

"I’ve heard the rumors," Simon pressed on. "That the Ivory Tower is divided into pro-Kizen and anti-Kizen factions."

"My, my, speaking so freely about the Tower’s internal affairs," she mused. "You must have an excellent source. Meirin isn’t foolish enough to spill secrets."

In truth, it was just something Dick had mentioned over lunch.

"You and the current master of the Ivory Tower are the faces of the anti-Kizen faction. Your attempts to gather Legion Commanders, to build your power..." Simon placed a hand on his hip. "It’s all because you want independence, isn’t it?"

She didn’t answer.

"But let’s say you expose me and have me executed. Who gets my Legion then?" The corner of Simon’s mouth lifted into a confident grin. "A more powerful necromancer, one completely loyal to Kizen, will become the next Legion Commander. If that happens, your dream of independence drifts even further away. And it’s not as if you can just kidnap me and transplant the Legion into one of your own."

Simon crossed his arms.

"That would be an open declaration of war against Kizen."

Kidnapping Special Admission No. 1, only to discover he was a Legion Commander, and murder him to steal his power? If that happened, Nephthys wouldn’t leave a single speck of the Ivory Tower standing. Historically, she was utterly ruthless in such matters.

"You only see one part of the board," Serne countered with a sweet smile. "In that case, wouldn’t this also be an option? I eliminate you and bury the Legion so that no one can have it."

"Aha." Simon’s grin widened.

"Sorry, but that option is off the table."

He mimed pulling a lever, tearing open his Subspace.

[Bwahahahahahahaha!]

Serne flinched, taking an involuntary step back. A towering skeleton draped in a shadowless cloak emerged—the Ancient Undead, Pier. He was followed by a flood of skeletons with dark blue flames smoldering in their eye sockets and Erzebet’s corpse spiders, pouring out like demons from another dimension.

’Why is Pier here?’ Serne bit her lip, her mind racing. ’Kizen should have conducted a Subspace inspection.’

"A moment ago, you said the observers couldn’t see inside your barrier, right?" Simon’s grin was predatory now. "That was also a mistake."

The Legion closed in around Serne, their collective roar a promise of violence, their fighting spirit blazing.