Necromancer Academy and the Genius Summoner

Chapter 620: Episode 620

The whole affair began with an idea from Simon.

"What if we put Lorraine and Serne on the same team? I’m hoping they can get along a little better during this Dark Festival."

Simon had said it with the pure intention of wanting the two to become friends, but Fitzgerald, upon hearing it, had fallen into serious thought.

"Strategically, that’s not a bad idea. I’ll mention it to the department representative later."

Fitzgerald was deeply involved in arranging the schedules for the second-year Summoning students for this Dark Festival. While the final decision lay with the department representative, Hector, he too trusted Fitzgerald’s data and analytical skills. Fitzgerald brought up the idea during the evening meeting.

"I understand you’re concerned about Serne skipping every event."

Hector, who had been wrestling with that very problem, scowled. "What are you getting at?"

"I propose pairing Lorraine and Serne for tomorrow’s three-legged race."

The three-legged race was a simple, classic event. Two people would stand side-by-side, tie their inner legs together, and run. Being at a necromancer school, using black magic was permitted. However, as it was a ’race’, flight magic and riding summons were forbidden. Directly attacking or cursing opponents was also prohibited.

"Hector, you know as well as I do that the only one who can control Serne is Lorraine," Fitzgerald explained. "Given how dedicated she’s been to the Dark Festival, she’ll find a way to get Serne to the stadium."

"Huh..."

And so, today, Lorraine had indeed succeeded in dragging Serne, who had been sleeping in, to the stadium. But the atmosphere was anything but pleasant.

"Why aren’t those two running?" a spectator wondered aloud.

"...Are they fighting?" another murmured.

The crowd buzzed with confusion. The race had already started, and students from other departments were well on their way, but Lorraine and Serne were just glaring in opposite directions, radiating a palpable chill.

A terrifying aura, one that no one dared to approach, swirled around the two of them. The race official, holding a flag, timidly approached.

"Uh, students. You need to start now..."

At this, Serne shot him a ferocious glare. The official immediately shriveled and fell silent.

"The official is right," Lorraine said, re-tying her straight black hair. "Let’s go."

"And why should I?" Serne retorted, her voice laced with thorns.

"Because you’re a student," Lorraine shot back, not yielding an inch. "Is a student participating in a school event something that requires a ’why’?"

"Do you really think I’d run in a childish race like this?"

"Why are you always like this?" Lorraine’s own pent-up frustrations were beginning to boil over. "What’s your problem? What are you so unhappy about? You ignore the school’s legitimate instructions, you only cause trouble, and you do nothing but inconvenience everyone!"

"What am I unhappy about, you ask?" Serne let out a disbelieving laugh and looked straight at Lorraine. "Due to a past treaty, I was forcibly dragged to Kizen the moment I turned seventeen. The reason is obvious. It’s a ploy to hold the heir hostage and prevent the Ivory Tower from challenging Kizen. You expect someone who was dragged here against their will to cooperate?"

"..." Lorraine clutched the hem of her clothes. "A hostage? That can’t be true! You’re just exaggerating!"

"Do you really think so? Look at history," Serne said, raising her index finger toward Lorraine’s eyes. "No kingdom willingly sends its heir to an enemy nation’s palace. They’re sent because they are forced to, and the reasons are always the same: hostage, prisoner, slave. After winning its conflict with the Ivory Tower, Kizen signed a treaty forcing the heir to study here. A school is a very convenient pretext, isn’t it?"

Lorraine’s arm trembled. "Is that really true? Bermude is dead! You’re no longer just an heir; you’re a de facto ruler with power comparable to the Tower Master. But you didn’t take that position. You chose to remain at Kizen of your own will! If you truly think you’re a hostage, why did you stay? Why do you keep acting like this? Your words are full of contradictions!"

Serne lifted her chin defiantly. "I have my reasons for staying at Kizen. And that goal has nothing to do with studying or grades. Must every student be obsessed with their rank? Within the confines of this school, I will do only as I please."

"You really are...!"

"Uh, students..." the official stammered, his face pale. As the heirs of Kizen and the Ivory Tower, he had to be careful with every word. "I-if you don’t start, according to the rules, I’ll have to... d-d-disqualify you..."

Lorraine’s expression hardened. She turned and saw her Summoning Department classmates in the stands. The mood over there was like a funeral.

"N-no! We’ll start!" They had to avoid disqualification. Lorraine tried to move her leg. "Serne, we have to go now!"

"What? I said I’m not going—!"

With their leg lifted and their minds at odds, they lost their balance and tumbled to the ground.

Both having landed face-first in the dirt, they shot their heads up at the same time.

"What do you think you’re doing!" Serne shrieked, her eyes blazing.

"What do you think ’you’re’ doing!" Lorraine yelled back in frustration. Soon, the two were screaming at each other.

"What on earth are they doing?" a spectator laughed.

"Hahahaha!"

Laughter rippled through the stands. But for the Summoning Department students, it was no laughing matter.

’They actually think that’s funny.’

’Easy for them to say. It’s not their problem.’

The responsibility of dealing with the fallout and the inevitable cold war would fall entirely on the shoulders of those around them.

While the two young heirs destined to lead the Dark Alliance fought, the other students were already on their second lap. They would run hard, then slow down and pointedly look away as they passed the section where Lorraine and Serne were sprawled, only to speed up again once they were clear.

"...You four-eyed bastard!"

In the stands, Hector grabbed Fitzgerald by the collar and lifted him clean off his feet. "This isn’t what you said would happen!"

"My prediction was accurate," Fitzgerald replied, calmly adjusting his glasses. "The core of the plan was simply to get Serne, whose contribution was zero, to participate. Whether they would actually perform well was up to fate."

"You son of a bitch, just because you have a mouth—!"

"Hector! Calm down!" His faction members pulled him back.

Hector took a sharp breath and roughly tossed Fitzgerald aside. ’Finishing last in the women’s division is a huge blow. We have to make up for it in the men’s division...’

"Hey, it’s the President!"

Just then, Simon, having finished his own event, came running into the stadium. He rushed to the fence, his eyes lighting up as he took in the scene. Lorraine and Serne were collapsed in the middle of the field, their legs tied together.

’Oh no! They fell!’

In reality, they hadn’t taken a single step from the starting line, but to Simon, who had just arrived, it looked like they had fallen mid-race.

"You can do it! Lorraine! Serne!" he shouted, his voice echoing across the stadium.

The two girls, who were on the verge of tearing each other’s hair out, snapped their heads around at the same time.

’Simon?’

In the distance, he was smiling brightly and waving.

"Don’t give up yet! You can do it!"

Seeing Simon cheering them on so purely, so completely unaware of the situation, they both lowered their hands.

"Hmm," Serne hummed, finally dusting off her gym clothes and getting to her feet. "Alright. I feel like doing it now."

"...Suddenly?" Lorraine asked, bewildered.

"Didn’t I tell you?" Serne said, brushing sand from her hair. She plucked a single feather from her ivory locks. "I only do what I want to do."

In the blink of an eye, the feather deconstructed into a breathtakingly complex magic circle. The sigil, packed with formulas, shifted and reconfigured with blinding speed. In an instant, the recalculation was complete, and it compressed back into the shape of a feather. Serne placed it on the ground at her feet.

"What are you planning?" Lorraine asked suspiciously.

Serne silently tapped the rope tying their legs together, and its material softened. "You, with your Innate Ability sealed, are a worthless piece of trash," she said, turning and pressing her body close to Lorraine’s in an almost-embrace. "But that body of yours is still useful, isn’t it?"

Lorraine’s expression twisted in displeasure. "Don’t call a person a ’body’. So, what’s the plan?"

"You’re really slow on the uptake. Step on that feather. With all your might."

Lorraine was hesitant, but she had to cooperate to avoid disqualification. With no other choice, she wrapped an arm around Serne’s waist for support. "Hold on tight."

Her vast reserves of Jet-Black flowed out, concentrating in her leg. Lorraine hopped forward on one foot and powerfully stomped on the feather.

With a sound like a cannon firing, the two of them shot forward at incredible speed.

"Whoa!"

"What was that?"

Serne pulled another feather from her hair and threw it to the spot where Lorraine needed to land. Lorraine immediately stomped on it, launching them again.

To the spectators, it looked as if the two girls had suddenly teleported. A moment later, a gale-force wind swept through, shaking the stadium’s trees violently.

"Woah!"

"Huuuh!"

Students were sent flying, caught in the massive gale the two created. At this sudden turn of events, the Summoning Department students, who had been on the verge of despair, shot their heads up.

"No way!"

With a single leap, they were crossing half the stadium.

"Isn’t flying or teleporting against the rules?"

"No! That’s a high-speed leap! Look! The official isn’t raising the flag!"

It was a combination of Serne’s advanced leaping magic and Lorraine’s immense Jet-Black and athletic ability. The ground cracked and fissured where she landed.

"They just lapped a team!"

"My gosh! How many laps did they make up?"

Soon, the finish line was in sight. The students from the Jet-Black Dynamics Department were in the lead, using booster magic that spewed flames from their palms. Their coordination was perfect.

"We did it!" the student on the right shouted.

"We’re in first place!" the one on the left cheered.

Just as they made their final leap, thrusting their chests out toward the tape—

A mountain of dust and dirt erupted with a gale-force wind. The two were sent flying, tumbling to the side.

And then, the girls with black hair and platinum blonde hair appeared before the finish line. Standing side by side, they crossed it simultaneously with a leisurely stride.

"The winners!" the official declared, raising his arm. "First place goes to Lorraine and Serne of the Summoning Department!"

At the incredible comeback victory, fervent cheers erupted from all sides. The two, who had been waving gracefully to the crowd, simultaneously turned their eyes in one direction.

The spectator stands. They saw Simon, jumping up and down with his classmates, celebrating their victory.

"You did great!" Simon called out, smiling and waving.

Serne watched him for a moment before bending down to untie the rope on her leg.

"I hope today is the last time I’m ever tied to you," she said coolly.

Lorraine let out a sigh that sounded like a laugh. "I agree."

---

At the same time, at a stall on the coast of Roc Island.

The crunch of footsteps on sand approached the stall. The owner, busy preparing for business, looked up.

"Welcome! What can I get for y—"

His voice died in his throat. "Uh... huh?"

His pupils trembled uncontrollably, as if he had seen something he shouldn’t have.

The footsteps, which had been about to pass the stall, stopped.

"You."

The figure walked back to the stall.

"Can you see my face?"

"Th-th-that! ’Huk!" Sensing the killing intent, the stall owner cried out desperately. "Hey! Someone look over here! A monster! There’s a monster here...!"

But no one heard him. Not the owner of the stall next door, nor the visitors passing right by. It was as if the two of them were completely isolated from the rest of the world.

Belatedly realizing his life was in danger, the stall owner trembled. "I didn’t see anything! P-p-please, spare me!"

"..."

Under the figure’s robe, a face smiled.

"That’s right. You saw nothing."

Droplets of blood splattered high into the air.

Amidst the heat of the festival, a crack was slowly beginning to form.