Necromancer Academy's Summoning Genius Chapter 2 After Neptis returned, Simon had to endure the busiest week of his life. Even his usually relaxed father, Richard, acted as if possessed. Richard's sharp gaze and decisive actions left no room for childish complaints like 'Do I really have to go to Kizen?' Richard cast a spell on Simon's body. He called it the process of creating a 'Core', and all Simon knew was that it was incredibly painful. After three days and nights of continuous work, the Core's construction was complete, and Simon boarded a carriage with Richard. It was an exceptionally large and luxurious carriage, unbefitting their barony's circumstances. Simon's jaw dropped at the unfamiliar comfort of its cushions. "You must be safe, Simon." Anna, who had tearfully loaded two weeks' worth of lunchboxes into the carriage, waved goodbye. "If you ever feel like you can't bear it, come back to Reshill anytime." Richard, a renowned devoted husband, scolded her, asking what kind of talk that was to a child just starting his journey. Simon, who had never witnessed his parents quarrel in his life, truly felt that his daily routine was beginning to change. "Then, we shall depart." The coachman pulled the reins, and the carriage wheels began to roll. Thus began Simon's adventure, a boy who had lived his entire life only in Reshill. Of course, it was far from a comfortable carriage ride. Inside the carriage, Richard gave Simon an intensive course in dark magic. "Breathe." To 'breathe' meant to use the 'breathing technique' Richard had taught him. Simon took a deep breath, drawing the mana from the atmosphere into his body. It wasn't difficult, as he had practiced it countless times. "Now, slowly move the mana inside you and pass it through the Core." Richard placed his hand on Simon's chest, assisting him. Simon carefully guided the mana, flowing like a river, through the Core beneath his heart. Something had changed. The fluid mana felt more viscous and solidified. "Now, guide the mana to flow down your arm. Yes, just like that, release it from your hand." With a sensation like a blocked vein suddenly clearing. Black liquid seeped from Simon's palm like sweat droplets. As Simon blinked and looked down at his palm, Richard smiled faintly. "Well done, Simon. This is 'Jet Black', the source of a Necromancer's power." According to Richard, there was a time when Knights and Mages dominated the continent. Of course, they are now weakened, pushed aside by the mainstream Necromancers. Knights cannot overcome the Necromancers' sheer numbers, and Mages fall short in casting speed and destructive power. "The biggest difference between Mages and Necromancers is the presence or absence of 'Jet Black'." Richard extended his left hand. Blue mana shimmered above his palm like heat haze. "Mana has the properties of a gas. Its low density makes it difficult to bind, and it tends to scatter into the atmosphere." This time, he extended his right hand. A viscous black liquid welled up like a spring and flowed down his palm. "On the other hand, 'Jet Black' has properties closer to a solid or liquid. It's composed of dense magical power, making it easy to bind and freely transform its shape." The viscous black liquid flowing down his palm suddenly surged upwards. It then coalesced in mid-air, transforming into a flower, then a wave, a flicking snake's tongue, and even a rotating windmill. "Wow……!" As Simon gasped in admiration at the sudden, spectacular show, the Jet Black changed shape, forming a 'magic circle'. From the black magic circle, constructed with countless runes, a red light burst forth as if a bomb had exploded. A chilling sensation ran through him, and the hairs on his body stood on end. Something, something incredible was about to happen......! *Crack!* Richard clenched his fist, and the magic circle shattered. The falling ashes slowly disappeared. "Those who wield power based on this Jet Black, we call them Necromancers." Simon nodded as if enchanted. "We don't have much time, so there's not much I can teach you. For the remaining time, let's focus on practicing the basics of drawing 'Jet Black' from your Core." "Yes, Father!" Practicing the creation of Jet Black was more fun than he expected. At first, it was just droplets forming on his palm, but as time passed, their size grew, and their shapes changed. With such clear progress, Simon became engrossed in practice, losing track of time. Richard, satisfied with his son's rapid progress, also guided him to avoid impatience. '......Such monstrous progress.' Richard didn't show it, but inwardly, he was utterly astonished. From simple emission to shape transformation in just three days. This was truly abnormal. Considering that it takes an average person half a year to nearly two years to achieve shape transformation, it was no exaggeration to say that Simon was born for Jet Black. Even though he was his own son, Richard felt goosebumps while teaching him. In truth, Richard already knew about Simon's talent. He had simply been waiting for the right time to create the 'Core' for him. Explosive talent is poison when one's self and emotions are not yet established. Richard was someone who regretted his own tyrannical youth more than anyone, and he didn't want to pass on such mistakes to his son. But now, finally, it was time for Simon's talent to blossom. The entire continent would be surprised by this child's emergence. Just imagining it sent shivers down Richard's spine, making it hard for him to sit still. "Father! Look!" Simon conjured Jet Black, flickering like a flame above his palm. Richard looked at it with a serious expression. "Dark Blue. A beautiful Jet Black with a slight blue tint." "Is it, is it good? Am I a rare case? Am I talented?" "It's just cool, that's all." "......." Simon looked dejected and resumed his practice. Richard turned his head, barely managing to suppress the corners of his lips from rising. 'It's not easy to maintain a poker face.' Time passed quickly like that. From Simon's perspective, a week passed without him even realizing how. And then. "This is as far as I can go with you, Simon." Richard suddenly announced. Simon's heart sank. "I thought you'd take me all the way to Kizen." "I'm sorry, but your father has circumstances that prevent him from setting foot in the Dresden Kingdom. From here on, you must decide and act on everything yourself." A sudden, intense pressure weighed down on him, and he swallowed hard. Having lived in Reshill for 17 years, it would be a lie to say he wasn't afraid of such a change. Then Richard firmly grasped Simon's hand. "I promise you, my son. You will do better than anyone. And." Richard smiled faintly. "I am truly proud of you." Hearing his father's affirmation for the first time in his life, Simon felt a lump form in his throat. "I'll be back, Father." Having parted ways with Richard, Simon stayed alone in the spacious carriage. He didn't waste the remaining time and focused on training his Jet Black. Another week passed like that. "Wow……!" They arrived in 'Langerstein', the capital of the Dresden Kingdom. Simon's first impression of the big city was simply overwhelming. Tall, massive buildings everywhere, carriages crisscrossing the roads in a frenzy, and swarming crowds of people. His head spun at the sight he had never witnessed before. "Move! Move!" Simon jumped back in surprise. A massive carriage, over 5 meters wide, was speeding down a steep slope. The carriage was pulled by a horse made entirely of bare bones. 'Undead!' Undead were openly roaming in the middle of the city. From simple labor like pulling carriages or rickshaws to odd jobs like distributing flyers in the plaza. It was a sight only possible in an era where Necromancers were mainstream. 'Stay sharp.' Simon lightly slapped his cheek, then unfolded a crumpled note from his pocket. <239 Camelroad, Langerstein SL1E 6AJ.> <Guide awaiting> 'So I'm supposed to go to this address, right?' Simon steeled himself. Whether it was Langerstein or Reshill, wasn't it ultimately a place where people lived? If he went to this address and met the guide who would take him to Kizen, everything would be solved. But this information alone gave him no clue. Eventually, Simon approached a woman with abundant blonde hair, standing with her back to him. "Ex-excuse me, madam, may I ask you something?" The moment the woman turned around, Simon was startled. One of her eyes had popped out and was dangling. "What is it, child?" "......." It's rude to be surprised. It's rude to be surprised. Simon desperately calmed his startled heart and forced a smile. "I'd like to go to the address written on this paper......" "Address? Let me see." Simon broke out in a cold sweat as the dangling eyeball suddenly elongated and scanned the paper. Fortunately, he bit his lip tightly, preventing any sound from escaping. "Ah, Camelroad? It's a famous spot in Langerstein. If you go around the plaza up there and turn right, you'll see an alley with golden tiles." "Ah......! Thank you very much!" Simon bowed deeply. The woman opened the fan in her hand, covered her mouth, and chuckled. "Such a polite child, rare to see these days. I wish you good fortune in Langerstein." Fortunately, things seemed to be going well! Simon thanked her once more and vigorously walked towards the plaza the woman had indicated. '.......' And a moment later. A man who had been quietly observing the entire scene approached the woman, just as Simon had. * * * 'Finally, I've reached Camelroad.' Why was this city so complicated? Simon finally entered Camelroad after twenty minutes of wandering. As the woman had said, the floor tiles were painted gold. '239, 239.......' He was walking, holding the note and checking the addresses on each building, when. "Excuse me." Someone suddenly appeared from the opposite direction and spoke to Simon. It was a bald man with beads of sweat on his forehead. He took out a handkerchief, wiped his brow once, and spoke in a polite tone. "Are you perhaps going to 239 Camelroad, specifically SL1E 6AJ?" Simon's eyes widened. How did he know the detailed address? "Ah! Are you perhaps the guide sent by Mr. Howl......!" The man nodded. "Yes, I am Mr. Howl's guide! You hadn't arrived after some time, so I was looking for you, thinking you might have gotten lost." At his words, Simon felt greatly relieved and said, "Finally, we meet. My name is Simon Pollentia." "I am Raulley, a Langerstein guide. Come, this way. You must be tired from your journey, so I'll guide you to your accommodation first." Simon nodded and followed him. "It will take about 15 minutes of walking. I'll take you through a shortcut as quickly as possible." "Okay!" Leaving Camelroad and walking through winding alleys, Simon continuously looked around with curiosity. Everywhere he looked, there were houses. They were packed so tightly that there was almost no wasted space. It seemed like the people in this city alone outnumbered the entire population of the Reshill barony several times over. "I was really worried, customer. It's dangerous for outsiders to wander alone in Langerstein without a guide." Raulley rattled on. "They say you can get robbed blind. The city is swarming with people trying to fleece innocent travelers. Pickpockets, robbers, unscrupulous merchants who overcharge. When we get to the accommodation, I'll teach you a few words of the Langerstein dialect. It's a temporary measure, but it's better than not knowing anything at all." "Aha." Simon smiled faintly. "So you're trying to fleece me too, old man." "......!!" Raulley stopped dead in his tracks. "C-customer? What do you mean by that......" "Your gaze keeps unintentionally drifting downwards." Simon said, extending his index finger. "You even felt the lower pocket of your vest directly with your hand once, checking if something was there, right? Judging by the pocket's width and creases, it looks like there's something like a knife inside." "......." Raulley broke out in a cold sweat and turned to look at Simon. "That's...... Yes. You're right." *Click.* He admitted it readily, showing the knife handle in his lower vest pocket. "Didn't I tell you? Langerstein is a dangerous place. You never know who you might encounter in such narrow alleys......" "Crucially, the person I mentioned earlier, Howl, I actually made that up." Simon grinned, resting his head on his arm. "You immediately accepted it when I said 'Mr. Howl's guide'. Howl is the name of Johnson's favorite goat in Reshill, so are you perhaps running errands for a goat?" "......." Raulley's face, which had been wearing a friendly smile, stiffened. "T-then you knew everything and still followed me? What the hell are you, you bastard?!"
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