Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner

Chapter 603: Episode 603

A few days later, the ’Single Undead Operation’ performance evaluation finally arrived. The designated meeting point for the Summoning Studies students was the Kizen Underground Dungeon, located within Roc Island.

The carriage rattled as it swayed, and Simon stared out the window, his face etched with fatigue. Around him, his classmates chattered excitedly.

"The Kizen Underground Dungeon. A famous place," Fitzgerald remarked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "It’s a super-massive prison holding countless monsters captured from all over the continent."

"Simon and I have been there once!" Toto added, looking at Simon. "Right?"

"That’s right." It had been some time. He recognized the large cave outside the window. A year ago, the first-year Class A had their first group evaluation there, tasked with capturing a Cyclops.

"Simon, are you okay?" Lorraine asked from the seat across from him, her voice laced with concern. "You look exhausted."

"Haha. Just a little nervous, that’s all," Simon replied, subtly turning his head away.

’I only got thirty minutes of sleep.’ He had gone through a bloody battle—no, a bloody ’creation’ process—right up to the final moment. Crafting an undead was a series of countless variables. He felt like he wouldn’t survive making another one with such special materials.

’But still,’ he thought, clenching his fist with a surge of excitement, ’I finished it.’

He was practically bouncing in his seat, eager to test it in the exam. Throughout the carriage ride, he kept imagining opening his subspace and unleashing his newly forged Dullahan.

A short while later, the carriage stopped, and the students began to disembark. Teaching assistants waiting in front of the dungeon entrance bowed politely.

"The professors are waiting."

"This way, please."

As they followed the assistants into the mouth of the cave, a wave of stuffy air filled their lungs. The damp, humid space reeked of mold, and the distant cries of monsters echoed off the walls. The students’ eyes darted around, taking in the grim sights.

"My goal is to see the angel sleeping in the lowest level here before I graduate!" Eshe declared on the way to the exam site.

Toto, walking beside her, chimed in. "Ah, the school mystery."

"Believing that legend is a matter of intellect," Fitzgerald added, adjusting his glasses. "Angels do not exist."

"If Saintesses exist, angels can too!" Eshe retorted. "And hey, glasses-guy, why are you always hanging around our group? Go to your own!"

"When I’m with Serne, I feel like my memories become fragmented," Fitzgerald confessed. It seemed he’d had a few bad run-ins with her, as he now frequently sought refuge with Simon’s Group 10. He seemed to find a sense of psychological stability with both Simon and Toto around.

Chatting idly, the students took several consecutive teleports through the magic circles deep within the dungeon. The layout was incredibly complex, and even those who tried to memorize the path eventually gave up.

’We’re going in deep.’ They were now in a place incomparably deeper than where they had been during their first year. Simon wondered what awaited them. He straightened his necktie, steeling his resolve.

"Ah!"

"It’s the professors!"

After a long journey, they finally arrived at their destination: a wide, underground plaza where all the professors of the Summoning Department were gathered. Aaron, the department head and Intermediate Summoning professor; Grelion, in charge of Summoning Materials Science; and the twin professors Lin and Rune, who taught Summoning Funerary Rites. Behind them, a full staff of teaching assistants stood at attention. Seeing them all together, Simon was struck by how large the department staff truly was.

But that wasn’t all. Simon looked up toward the upper viewing platform.

’Kizen headquarters staff. And...’

"Even the Elders are here," Lorraine muttered. She seemed familiar with the sight, her gaze resting on the old men with age spots.

Eshe bounced on her toes, pointing to the side. "Lorraine! The Crows are here too!"

"Are those rich people next to them? They’re wearing like, ten rings each."

As the first proper practical evaluation of their second year, it had drawn a great deal of attention. It was a showcase, an opportunity for the students to display their capabilities in front of the continent’s most powerful figures. It was a given that every achievement here would impact their future careers.

"Attention," Aaron called out, stepping forward. The students fell silent, their eyes fixed on him. "Welcome to the Kizen Underground Dungeon. I trust you’ve all prepared well for your first major performance evaluation?"

"Yeees!" the students roared in unison.

"The importance of this evaluation cannot be overstated," Aaron continued. "Not only will I be grading you for Intermediate Summoning, but Professor Grelion and Professors Lin and Rune will also be assigning scores for their respective subjects."

A collective gulp rippled through the crowd. All three major subjects were linked. This was a major evaluation for a reason.

"As you know, this evaluation is a ’Single Undead Operation’." He scanned the students, his gaze landing on one. "Coiter Pizn."

The plaza grew quiet. A student blinked, then shot his hand up. "C-C-Coiter Pizn, sir!"

"A self-diagnosis," Aaron said, his voice calm. "If you were to grade the undead you’ve prepared, from F to A, what would be appropriate?"

"Pardon?"

A heavy silence descended. The gazes of his classmates, the professors, and the intrigued dignitaries on the second floor—Elders, staff, and senior Crows—all bore down on him. Coiter, sweating profusely, finally clenched his fists and shouted bravely, "O-Of course, it’s A-rank!"

The last syllable cracked, ending in a high-pitched squeak. A few snickers rippled through the crowd. Coiter’s face turned beet red.

"I’m really confident! I barely slept preparing for this! I even put my midterms on the back burner to go all-in on this—!"

"Are you saying you half-assed your midterms?" Aaron cut in flatly.

Coiter’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. "N-No! I didn’t mean that literally, it was just a figure of speech! It means that’s how much effort I put into this!"

A few students whistled playfully. Members of Hector’s faction snickered and muttered, "Dumbass."

"Very well," Aaron said, turning his head. "Elarin Ruo."

"Whoa! Y-Y-Yes, sir! Elarin Ruo!" a female student squeaked, shooting her hand up. She was so nervous her trembling fingertips were barely visible peeking out from her uniform sleeves.

"Self-diagnosis."

"Ah, I, I...!" Glancing at Coiter, she squeezed her eyes shut and shouted, "I’m A-rank too! I believe my DulRaheiman is in perfect condition to pass any test!"

Aaron continued, pointing to students as his gaze swept across the crowd. "Laubel Buenmers."

"Eshe Arjel."

"Guinevere Benners."

The vast majority of students raised their hands and confidently declared themselves A-rank. Aaron’s tone was light, and more importantly, the teaching assistants weren’t recording their answers. It seemed like a simple exercise to ease their tension. If that was the case, it was better to show confidence than to tremble in fear. The lowest grades called out were from a few conscientious students who said B-rank, or those like Toto who cautiously said C-rank while reading the room. Nothing lower.

"Hector Moore."

Hector answered with an indifferent expression. "Is there no S-rank?"

His faction roared with laughter, slapping him on the back. Having created a Dullahan from a Guardian, Hector was overflowing with confidence. He smirked and stared directly at Simon.

Just then, Aaron spoke again. "Simon Polentia."

Simon maintained a poker face. "I would also like to rate mine at the highest level."

"Understood." Aaron cut it off there and scanned the students one last time. "Most of you said ’A-rank’. In that case, everyone here will receive the highest score. Isn’t that right?"

A tense silence fell.

"Confidence and spirit are commendable," Aaron said. "But a necromancer must always be level-headed. A summon’s performance can be accurately predicted before battle. What materials were used? What formulas? Was there any damage during its creation? Are there missing elements? Is its movement smooth? What is its Jet-Black operational capacity?"

He looked around at the students. "A hunter must be an expert on his weapon to avoid starvation. He must know how far his arrow can fly to get within range of his prey. The same goes for a necromancer. No matter how passionately you created your summon, you must coolly assess its abilities. Underestimate it, and you waste Jet-Black and lose efficiency. Overestimate it," Aaron added gravely, "and at worst, you could die in battle."

He was met with silence.

"I will be watching to see if you can coolly assess your summon’s capabilities and utilize them to their full potential." Aaron snapped his fingers. Assistants activated a projection device, and a large mana screen materialized in the air. "I will now reveal the rules of this evaluation."

The screen displayed the inside of the dungeon’s exam area, which was swarming with countless monsters.

"That is where you will take your test."

Simon’s eyes gleamed. There appeared to be no overwhelmingly strong individuals among them. They were between Grade 2 and Grade 3 in terms of danger. Which meant...

’A one-versus-many battle.’

In their first year, five students had faced a single powerful monster. Now, as second-year Summoning majors, a single student had to face a horde with a single summon.

"The time limit is a maximum of 15 minutes per person," Aaron explained. "Within those 15 minutes, you must eliminate all monsters inside the exam area. As per the ’Single Undead Operation’ rule, you may only use one summon. You are not permitted to enter the area yourselves."

This was more or less what they had expected, and the students nodded vigorously.

"Seems doable."

"Yeah!"

"With a Dullahan’s firepower, that should be easy."

The Dullahan was designed to exert immense power in a short amount of time. They had even learned how to use aura and create slashing attacks during the special lecture by Professors Lin and Rune. Most of the students who had paid attention seemed unafraid.

"However, a new rule will be applied," Aaron said, and all heads snapped back toward him. "You are the ones who will decide the number of monsters to hunt."

A wave of murmurs swept through the students. ’I decide the number of monsters?’

They had assumed it would be a time-attack, evaluating how quickly they could defeat a set number of monsters. But a subtle new rule had just been introduced.

"It’s not as complicated as it sounds," Aaron continued. "Right before the exam, you will tell the dungeon keeper the number of monsters you intend to hunt. The keeper will then release that number of monsters, of random types, into the exam area. You will hunt them all with your single undead, and you will receive points equal to the number of monsters you defeat."

An example appeared on the screen, showing a skeleton archer controlled by an assistant. It skillfully shot down monsters one by one, destroying 20 within the 15-minute time limit.

"In this case, the examinee destroyed 20 monsters, so they earn 20 points."

The students nodded slowly at the intuitive rule.

"Doesn’t seem too hard."

"I know, right?"

The scene on the screen changed. A heavily armored Skeleton Knight was chasing monsters, but its movements were slow. The 15-minute timer ran out, and it failed to catch the last one.

"This examinee declared they would defeat 30 monsters, but missed one," Aaron narrated.

Simon’s eyes narrowed. ’So, a 1-point deduction, for a score of 29...’

"In this case," Aaron continued, his voice heavy, "the score is 0."

A panicked uproar erupted. The students’ faces went pale.

"Zero points for missing just one?"

"Th-This can’t be right!"

Aaron clapped his hands once, silencing the crowd. "Is there a reason to complain? You are the ones who decide the number of monsters."

The noise in the hall vanished.

"To avoid such a mishap, you simply need to assess your summon and declare an appropriate number," Aaron said, a corner of his mouth lifting into a cold smile. "Declare too few, and you won’t be able to beat your competitors. Declare too many, and you will pay the price for your recklessness and arrogance. It is as simple as that. Many of you declared yourselves ’A-rank’ earlier. I’ll be watching to see how boldly you can make a decision when the stakes are real."

And so, the brutal first major performance evaluation of the Summoning Department began.