Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner-Chapter 453: Episode

"Students who have finished selecting their department should immediately join the seniors in the Summoning Department."

Simon nodded at the teaching assistant’s instruction and nervously adjusted his tie before starting toward the table where the third-years waited. While his second-year classmates cheered and applauded his choice, the third-years were another story entirely.

Their faces were glacial; some wore expressions of open disgust.

’It must be because of the Student Council presidency,’ Simon reasoned. He had anticipated this backlash. The deal between Phantastus and Aizel was, in the end, a private arrangement between the two of them. The other third-years had been completely excluded from the discussion. Their silence now was born of intimidation from those two powerful names, not from any genuine support for Simon. He knew better than to become intoxicated by his new title; it was crucial to understand the reality of his situation.

Since he had fully expected this frigid reception, Simon maintained a neutral expression and walked on without flinching.

Cursology, Jet-Black Dynamics, Summoning, Necrology, Hemomancy, Venomology, and Combat Magic. Seven tables in total. The one Simon approached was the third from the left, easily identified by the flag bearing a zombie emblem.

The third-years from the Summoning Department offered no welcome, even as he drew near. Simon moved through the heavy silence, gave a slight bow to the student at the head of the table, and made to move past him.

"Hold on."

The student at the head of the table rose to his feet.

"A junior has joined our department. We should at least say hello."

Wavy hair brushed his forehead, complementing sharp eyes, a prominent nose, and strong cheekbones. With a charming smile and an equally pleasant voice, he was the very picture of a storybook prince.

"My name is Leonard Peyron," he announced. "I’m ranked fourth overall, and I’m the Summoning Department Representative."

He extended his hand, and Simon politely took it.

"Simon Polentia. I’m the top-ranked second-year and the Student Council President."

Leonard’s expression tightened for a fraction of a second at the immediate mention of "Student Council President," but the flicker of emotion vanished as quickly as it appeared. As they shook hands, Leonard glanced around at his peers.

"What are you all doing?" he chided lightly. "You’re embarrassing me."

Only then did the other Summoning students jolt to their feet, clapping in a belated welcome. It was clear Leonard commanded a great deal of respect.

’And... this man is absurdly strong,’ Simon realized, a sense of awe washing over him as he held the handshake. The third-years were truly on another level. To think someone this powerful was only ranked fourth... He could only imagine the true strength of Aizel, the student who had held the top rank for two consecutive years.

"Thank you," Simon said.

After finishing his handshake with Leonard, Simon started walking again, only for a man with slicked-back hair and fish-like features to thrust out a hand.

"Will Douglas. Ranked twelfth."

"A pleasure to meet you."

This was the same man who had been glaring at him so openly just moments before. Simon tensed slightly as he took his hand, anticipating what a hot-headed type like this would do next. ’He’s going to try and crush my hand... Huh?’

There was no particular force in the grip. Simon gave a light, standard shake and was about to let go when he realized Will wasn’t releasing his hand.

"You know," Will began, his voice low and abrupt as he stepped closer and tilted his head, "there’s an order to everything in this world. Imagine this: you’re waiting in line at the cafeteria, and some ridiculously strong-looking guy comes along, shoves everyone aside, and cuts to the very front."

His rough voice dropped to a near whisper. "Okay, I can live with that. Most people would rather swallow their pride than make an enemy of the ’strong guy.’ But then..."

The muscles in Will’s face contorted. "The strong guy brings some nobody over, claims they’re friends, and puts that nobody right behind him in line."

"Huh..."

"Then the strong guy suddenly announces he has to leave. But the nobody, who can’t read the room, is still standing there at the very front. So let me ask you something." His lips parted. "What do you think the people behind him are going to—"

"Will, what are you doing, holding onto a junior like that?"

Will flinched and whipped his head around. A girl with cream-colored hair and striking eye makeup was scowling at him.

"Benya!" Simon exclaimed, his face brightening.

It was Benya Vanilla, a third-year whose eccentric goal was world domination. She was the president of the Mutants club, which Simon was also a member of, and the heir to the Vanilla family.

"Hello, my soldier!" she chirped, giving him a wink and a wave.

Will, on the other hand, scowled fiercely.

"Stay out of this, Benya Vanilla."

"It looks like your greeting is over," Benya retorted, pointing at Will’s hand still clamped around Simon’s. "Now, may I say hello to my club junior?"

"Hey," Will growled, roughly letting go of Simon’s hand and glaring at her.

Interrupting him in front of a junior, with so many people watching, was a clear provocation.

"You think I’m a pushover?"

"Hah."

"Just because you have the Vanilla family behind you—!"

"Will!"

Surprisingly, it was Leonard who raised his voice and cut him off.

"Benya is ranked seventh. No matter how happy you are to see a junior, she should have shaken his hand before you did. You were out of line this time."

"Leonard...!"

"Like you said, let’s stick to the proper order."

Will’s lips twisted into a sneer before he turned his back and stalked away. Simon glanced at Leonard. ’He’s a sharp one.’ Leonard had scolded Will, but in reality, he had just saved him from further embarrassment. Will would probably thank him quietly later.

"Anyway, a grand welcome, my soldier!" Benya declared, extending her hand. "I knew you’d come to conquer the Summoning Department!"

Simon took her hand.

"Thank you, Senior."

"It’s a shame you became Student Council President, though," she lamented. "I was planning on making you the club president."

It was customary for a second-year to take over as club president, as third-years often had off-campus duties or other official positions.

"Toto or Fitzgerald will do a great job," Simon offered.

"Yeah! I’m sure they will."

Still, he was relieved to have at least one person welcome him. Benya announced she was heading to the restroom and left. Simon walked past the remaining third-years and took a seat by himself at the back of the table, in the area designated for second-years.

’It’s empty.’

As Simon stretched his legs and leaned his tired body against the back of his chair, a massive cheer erupted from the stage.

"Rank two, Chatel Maer, has chosen the Jet-Black Dynamics Department! Everyone, a round of applause!"

The half-giant Chatel could be seen walking over to shake hands with Professor Jane. It seemed a natural choice. While Chatel’s physical abilities were formidable, he was a necromancer who specialized in Jet-Black Earth magic. Behind him, Professor Hong Feng licked her lips, likely imagining the potential of training the giant’s prodigious physique in combat magic.

"YAYYY!"

As Chatel made his choice, a thunderous roar erupted from the table right next to Simon’s—the Jet-Black Dynamics table. The third-year students leaped to their feet, some even climbing onto the table and swinging their uniform jackets in the air.

’Pop! Bang!’

Colorful celebratory fireworks made from Jet-Black elemental magic exploded in a dazzling display. Using black magic indoors was normally forbidden, but it seemed the professors were turning a blind eye for the occasion. The taciturn Chatel simply nodded and took his seat, but the seniors immediately swarmed him, bombarding him with questions.

"Next up is rank three, Hector Moore! Come on up!"

It was already Hector’s turn. Intrigued, Simon sat up straighter. He watched as Hector reached into the altar of fire and drew a card.

"A quick decision, I like it! Hector Moore has chosen the Summoning Department!"

"Yeeeeaaaaah!"

This time, the cheers erupted from Simon’s own table.

"Welcome, Moore!"

"To the Summoning Department!"

Even Will, who had been so hostile moments ago, was now clapping and smiling alongside Leonard. The Summoning students had armed skeletons with instruments and were now playing a grand, orchestral piece. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

’So he’s coming to Summoning.’ Hector was an all-rounder who excelled at everything, but it seemed he had chosen to further strengthen his family’s Dragon Form. The Corpse Dragon, after all, fell squarely within the domain of Summoning.

After shaking hands with Professor Aaron, Hector arrived at the Summoning Department table, where everyone greeted him with loud, boisterous laughter.

"Welcome to the Summoning Department," Leonard said. "I’m Leonard, the department representative and ranked fourth overall."

"Yes, I’ve heard a lot about you, Senior," Hector replied, ever polite to his superiors. "I’m Hector Moore."

Simon sat alone, resting his chin on his hand as he watched. Just as Hector finished greeting the seniors and was about to head down to the second-year section where Simon was sitting, Will threw a friendly arm around his neck.

"Hey, junior! Where are you going? Your seat is over here!"

When Hector turned, he saw Leonard waiting with a smile, the seat next to him conspicuously empty. Hector had no choice but to take the offered spot. Leonard patted his back with a warm smile.

"To have a member of the Moore family join us is truly reassuring."

"Yes, I’ll work hard to be an asset to the department."

"Good. In that spirit..." Leonard took something out, placed it on the table, and slid it toward Hector.

"...This is."

It was an armband engraved with the Summoning Department’s emblem.

Leonard smiled.

"Hector Moore. I’d like to entrust you with the position of second-year Department Representative."

Hector, who rarely challenged his superiors, replied with uncharacteristic coldness.

"I’m not interested in such a position."

"It’s because there’s no one else," Leonard began to persuade him. "Originally, I planned to give it to the top-ranked student, Simon Polentia, but since he became the Student Council President, my hands are tied."

At those words, Hector’s indifferent eyebrows twitched.

"Are you," he began, a sharp displeasure lacing his voice, "trying to say I’m his replacement?"

"No."

Despite Hector’s ominous shift in mood, Leonard’s expression remained unchanged as he shook his head.

"The Department Representative is responsible for all the second-year students in the department. In this department, you’re the top dog, Student Council President or not." Leonard offered a friendly smile. "What I mean is, there’s no one else but you. No one else who can stand on equal footing with Simon Polentia and keep him in line."

Hector fell into a long, thoughtful silence. Finally, he made his decision.

"I’ll accept it."

He gripped the department armband in his hand.

---

"Rank four, Merida Hugh Ikel, is going to the Cursology Department! Applause!"

This time, cheers erupted from the far-left Cursology table.

"President Phantastus’s little sister! We’re counting on you!"

"Welcome to the Cursology Department!"

"You’ve got to write your own legend, too!"

Since Professor Bahil was absent, Merida shook hands with the head teaching assistant, Chehekle, before shuffling toward the Cursology table with sleepy eyes. After a brief greeting with the seniors, she immediately slumped onto the table and began to doze off.

’Merida must also specialize in sleep curses.’ Simon glanced at his palm, where the sleep magic circle Phantastus had taught him flared to life. ’I wonder which of ours is stronger.’

Seeing Merida fall asleep so quickly, the Cursology third-years simply laughed, showing no signs of displeasure. It seemed their department was more relaxed than disciplined.

"Next is rank five, Aseraz Mikel! Oh, good, you’re already here. Ranks six, seven, and eight, get ready right below the stage!" Professor Byulya called out.

As Aseraz took the amplifying crystal from the broadcasting minion, Byulya asked, "Hey, you’re not a special admission, but you shot up to fifth place this time, right? And you were first in the entire school on the written exams?"

"I was lucky," Aseraz replied with a gentle smile. "I just studied hard, reviewed well, and focused on the textbooks."

A girl watching from below the stage scowled.

’What a load of crap,’ thought Meirin. She was waiting for her turn, and she had lost the top spot in the written exams to that very girl. Twice. ’Ugh, so frustrating! This year, I’ll definitely...!’

"Uh, um. Vice President."

Someone suddenly spoke to her. Meirin turned to see a girl with pigtails standing there anxiously. It was the seventh-ranked Elisa Celine, controller of the ghost ship.

"What," Meirin snapped, not particularly pleased to see her. "Are we friends? Why are you suddenly talking to me?"

"...W-well," Elisa stammered, biting her lip and staring at her feet.

"Ugh, what is it! If you don’t hurry up, I’m leaving!"

At Meirin’s irritated shout, Elisa squeezed her eyes shut and yelled, "S-Simon! No, I mean, our Student Council President! Do you think... he might still hold a grudge against me?"