Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner

Chapter 618: Episode 618

"Come here," one of the students with a black armband ordered.

"Hey! Get over here!" another one shouted.

A startled Kamibarez clung tightly to Simon’s side.

"It’s okay, Kami," Simon reassured her gently. "They’re on our side. There’s just been a misunderstanding."

Since they were approaching, Simon led Kamibarez toward them.

It was the ’School Patrol’, a new group created based on a policy drafted by Dick. They were tasked with guiding outsiders and supervising students during the Dark Festival.

’Hmm.’

Simon quickly scanned their attire. All three were second-years. Two wore the black armbands of the School Patrol, and the third was a regular student who was grumbling with his hands in his pockets, clearly having been caught sneaking out.

Simon stopped and raised a hand.

"Hey, thanks for your hard work patrolling since dawn."

Kamibarez took the cue and bowed.

"Hello! Thank you for your hard work!"

The School Patrol students exchanged confused glances.

The School Patrol students looked bewildered. The students they had caught wandering outside were greeting them with unnerving calm.

"Uh, what the..."

Realization finally dawned on their faces. The patrol member on the left pointed a trembling hand at Simon’s Student Council armband.

"Hey, you don’t think they’re..."

The patrol member on the right nodded.

"They’re our superiors. Our mistake."

They admitted their fault more readily than expected. The one on the left scratched his head, embarrassed.

"S-Sorry, President. I thought you were first-years who sneaked out of the dorms."

"No, it’s fine," Simon said coolly. "Mistakes happen when you’re working."

In truth, the School Patrol members had one thing in common.

They were misfits.

They had volunteered for unpaid work that required them to wake up at the crack of dawn and prevented them from enjoying the festival. Simon couldn’t help but have a good impression of them.

"This is a bit surprising," Simon said, his gaze landing on the patrol member on the right. He was a boy with long blond bangs covering one eye, his hands shoved defiantly in his pockets. His face was scrunched up in a scowl as he chewed his gum loudly. He looked more like a delinquent than a patrol member. "I didn’t expect you to volunteer for the School Patrol, Malcolm Randolph."

Malcolm’s expression soured.

"What! You got a problem with me being on the patrol?"

"No, not at all."

Come to think of it, while they hadn’t interacted much, their paths had crossed surprisingly often. He was the son of the boss of the notorious Randolph Gang, and the one who had just barely scraped in as Special Admission No. 10. At the end of the last semester, his signature skill, ’Doppelgänger’, had been figured out, and he had been pushed out of the top 100. His father had forbidden him from returning to Kizen, but he’d had a change of heart, cooperated with the kingdom to arrest his own father, and then returned to school.

"I have a problem with it," a voice interjected.

Everyone turned. The second-year student who had been caught by the patrol was clicking his tongue.

"A gangbanger is the head of the School Patrol? A criminal is supervising students? Could it get any more messed up?" he sneered. The patrol student on the left moved forward angrily, but Malcolm stopped him with an arm.

"Isn’t that right, Mr. Student Council President?" The student’s gaze now turned to Simon. "As a student of Kizen, I’d like to ask why you entrusted student supervision to a criminal from the Randolphs."

Simon said nothing.

Truthfully, Simon was also surprised that Malcolm had volunteered in the first place.

"It pisses me off! Dammit!" the student raised his voice. "All the crap that criminal bastard did just gets forgotten? Now that he’s a second-year, he’s playing the victim, acting all high and mighty, and doing patrol duty. It’s so damn pathetic!"

Malcolm didn’t respond.

"Criminals should just keep acting like criminals! This good-guy act doesn’t suit you at all!"

Malcolm simply kept his mouth shut, holding back his fuming colleague.

Just then...

"Y-You too!" Kamibarez shrieked, squeezing her eyes shut. "You were caught because you did something wrong too!"

"Huh?" The male student’s gaze fell to the top of Kamibarez’s head, far below him. Malcolm looked at her, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"N-No. Are you saying they’re the same? He’s a criminal, and I’m..."

"The things you said," Simon said, taking a step forward.

The male student instinctively fell silent at the sight of Simon, his black coat fluttering, his expression serious.

"I’m not saying I don’t understand. Malcolm made mistakes. He’ll probably continue to be criticized and pointed at, but that’s his burden to bear."

"Yeah! That’s what I’m saying!"

"But," Simon’s eyes hardened. "You just said, ’Pisses me off. Pathetic."

The student was silent.

"Are people not allowed to change? Because he’s from a gang, he’s a bad guy, and he has to keep doing bad things forever? Why do you mock someone’s effort to change, calling it pathetic and infuriating? What gives you that right?"

Malcolm’s lips trembled. The veins on his clenched fist bulged.

"I know that people don’t change easily. I’m not a prophet, so I don’t know how Malcolm’s story will end. But at the very least, mocking the ’effort to change’ itself..." Simon cut him off firmly. "I think that’s wrong."

A heavy silence descended. The student, who had been about to retort, just scratched his head and muttered, "Aish, whatever."

"Alright, we’ll see, Mr. Student Council President," he said quietly as he was dragged away. "That bastard will never change."

---

The storm passed, leaving only Simon, Kamibarez, and Malcolm.

The gentle sound of waves drifted on the breeze. The sky had turned a perfect indigo, heralding the coming dawn.

"Why go that far?" Malcolm asked quietly, plopping down on a nearby rock. "Siding with me could be bad for your reputations."

Simon shrugged.

"We just said what we thought."

"That’s right!" Kamibarez nodded in agreement.

Malcolm cleared his throat and opened his subspace. "Anyway, I was on my way to the Student Council room, so it’s good I ran into you."

He held out a clipboard with the patrol records. Simon took it, scanned the contents, and signed it with a quill pen.

"By the way, Malcolm, you’re the head of the School Patrol?" Dick had been in charge of forming the patrol, so Simon didn’t know the details, but he was sure the chief had a different name. If it had been Malcolm, he would have remembered.

Hearing that, a slight smile touched Malcolm’s lips. "The old chief said he got the position based on his rank, and if anyone had a problem, they should speak up. So I challenged him to a combat evaluation and took it from him. Kizen is a meritocracy, after all."

"Aha." As Simon recalled, the former chief had been a skilled student ranked within the top 50.

"Looks like you’ve regained your confidence?"

"I’ve improved my Doppelgänger," Malcolm said, his lips curling upwards. "If we happen to meet in the Dark Festival, I won’t go easy on you. It’d be a mistake to think I’m at the same level as when we fought on the Parona Peninsula."

"Alright, I’ll look forward to it."

Kamibarez took a step closer to him.

"But Malcolm, I’m curious!"

"About what?"

"The real reason you volunteered for the School Patrol!"

A good question. Simon was curious, too. As both of their gazes fixed on Malcolm’s face, a faint blush rose to his cheeks.

"Agh, jeez! Do I have to tell you guys every cringey little detail!" he shouted, jumping to his feet. "Like that bastard said, I’m doing it to make a good impression on the school! Happy? I’m leaving!"

"Keep up the good work," Simon called after him.

"Goodbye!"

Malcolm turned his back and walked away. But as he did, other Malcolms approached from different directions—all of them doppelgängers, rounding up first-years who had escaped the dorms and various other rule-breakers.

"Speaking of which, the School Patrol is seriously understaffed," Malcolm said, looking back over his shoulder. "It means I have to work ten times harder."

As he spoke, leading the students away, Simon and Kamibarez looked at each other and smiled.

"The Head of the School Patrol was a good choice, don’t you think?"

"Yes! You’re right," Kamibarez replied, her face flushed as she added, "And Simon."

"Yes?"

"When you helped Malcolm earlier, I thought you were being a true Student Council President!"

This time, it was Simon’s cheeks that turned red. He scratched the side of his head and smiled.

"W-Well, if that’s how you see it, thanks."

---

Day two of the Dark Festival. Ringcastle Stadium.

"This is your announcer, Olendo Srei, broadcasting live from Ringcastle Stadium for the second-year morning competition!"

Massive rails were laid out across the stadium, with several cargo-laden trains running along the complex, tangled web of tracks.

"This event is the Train Scramble! The rules are simple! You must operate the track control devices to guide the trains to your department’s station! Naturally, the department that gets the most trains to its station wins!"

Simon was competing in this match, standing guard atop one of the trains.

’Combat is important, but understanding the tracks is essential, too.’

He studied the enchanted stadium map he had received, which showed not only the rails but also the real-time routes of the trains.

’Which route is the best one to take?’

The train only moved forward. According to the map, a track control device lay 800 meters ahead. Operating it would allow the train to go down either the right or left path.

"Simon! Tell me which way to go!" shouted Toto, who was competing alongside him.

Simon, who had been studying the map with a frown, finally pointed ahead.

"I’ve figured it out! Turn the track lever 800 meters ahead to the right!"

"Okay! I’m on my way!" Toto called out.

As instructed, he leaped from the train. A Death Worm erupted from the ground at the perfect moment, snatching him up and surging forward even faster than the train.

’There it is!’ he thought.

It wasn’t long before he spotted the track control device. Toto jumped from the Death Worm and seized the device’s handle, his hand closing around the cold metal. He had to throw the switch before the train reached the junction. Rolling up his sleeves, he threw his weight into the handle.

"To the right! To the right! To the... riiiight—"

As he strained to pull the lever, his vision suddenly blurred, and he staggered.

’Huh? What’s happening?’

A wave of exhaustion washed over him, his eyelids growing impossibly heavy. It felt like the deep comfort of snuggling into a warm, fluffy blanket in the dead of winter.

’Why am I so sleepy?’

His gaze then fell upon three students from the Necromancy Department, collapsed nearby.

’The Necromancy Department was trying to attack our train? But who took them down...?’

"Sweet dreams."

A hand gently patted the back of his head, and Toto’s world went dark as he fell into a deep sleep.

---

The train’s wheels clanked rhythmically against the tracks.

Aboard the train, Simon was completely absorbed in the map, oblivious to the unfolding situation. When he finally looked up, he saw the tracks ahead remained unchanged.

’Toto!’

Something must have happened at the switch. Simon sensed a shift in the flow of Jet-Black and glanced up at the sky.

An inexplicable sight greeted him: a blanket, floating in mid-air.

Simon’s eyes narrowed. ’Don’t tell me!’

"Hello, Simon."

A girl with mint-colored hair and sleepy eyes peeked out from behind it. It was Merida Hugh Ikel, the second-year representative of the Curses Department and ranked fourth overall.

"...Merida!" Simon exclaimed.

"I’ve been wanting to have a proper fight with you," she murmured, her eyes slowly drifting shut. "To see which of us is stronger... Mmm..."

As her eyes closed completely, a massive wave of Jet-Black pulsed outward. A single bead of sweat trickled down Simon’s forehead.

’This is bad.’

Merida had fallen asleep.

’Phantastus Original – Selfless Dream State’