Necromancer Academy's Genius Summoner

They weren't getting on the divine train immediately.

They had crossed several mountain ranges, stuffed themselves into a caravan, teleported twice, and traveled extensively, so they decided to take a day off.

"We can just go to any house in this village."

Said Rete, walking side by side with Simon.

"It's a great honor to welcome a priest, an apostle of the Goddess, into your home."

Hearing this, Simon blinked.

"It’s not a nuisance?"

"Ah, well… We might somewhat be if we visit suddenly, but that's just how things work here. You saw the farmers, too, didn't you? If they can receive the grace of the Goddess just by feeding us and providing us bedding, wouldn't they be glad?"

Simon shook his head.

"So we are a nuisance. I think it's better to go to an inn and not cause trouble."

"Well, if you say so… I guess it can't be helped."

The two went into a moderately large and clean-looking inn in the center of the village.

It had a tavern on the ground floor with rooms on the floor above.

Crosses, sacred patterns, and holy objects were displayed all over the walls. Rather than an inn or a tavern, Simon felt like he was in a chapel.

People sat at tables, busily talking while enjoying food and drink.

Simon and Rete walked to the counter. The innkeeper, a hairy beard grown on his face, was all over the place tending to the many customers.

"Benedictio deae! May the blessings of the Goddess be with you. Do you have any vacant rooms?"

Simon greeted him. The innkeeper, who was frantically carrying a large serving of the meal, briefly glanced at the two of them and said,

"A man and a woman? Will a room with a big bed do?"

"Are you insane?!"

Snarled Rete from next to Simon, her arms crossed.

Yelp! After putting down the food, the innkeeper wiped sweat off his forehead.

"Hey now, you can just say no if it's nothing like that. There's no need for you to… to…"

Belatedly, the innkeeper looked properly at Rete. When he saw her white uniform, his jaw dropped in disbelief.

"B-B-B-Benedictio deae!"

The innkeeper stomped out from behind the counter and immediately fell before Rete's feet.

"May the blessings of the great Goddess be with you, priest!"

The customers who looked around wondering what the fuss was about all shouted, “Benedictio deae!” and rose from their seats.

Rete, brushing back her hair, sighed,

"This is why we don’t go to inns."

She then commanded,

"Everyone, raise your heads."

The innkeeper immediately raised his head. He looked terrified.

"I-I wasn't able to recognize a priest of Efnel! I have committed a great sin!"

"It's fine. Let us have two of the best rooms here. I'd like my room as far away from his as possible."

"U-Understood!"

The innkeeper went upstairs to clean the rooms. His family in the kitchen said, “Benedictio deae,” and burst out, escorting the two to a table and bringing them dishes.

The fact that food was being served even though they hadn’t ordered meant that these dishes were supposed to go to other customers.

Rete said,

"We've already eaten. Please bring these to their original owners."

"Y-Yes!"

But this time, the people around them who had been drinking loudly couldn't, too focussed on not offending Rete. Some people even pretended to pray.

"You see that?"

Rete smiled proudly while resting her chin on her hands.

"I told you we should just pick any house. That way, we'll only be a nuisance to them. How many people are we being a nuisance to right now by coming here?"

"…"

"When in the Federation, do as the people of the Federation do. It's good for them and good for us. From now on, listen to what I s—"

Simon rose from his seat.

"Good evening, brothers and sisters."

In no time, everyone's eyes moved from Rete to Simon. 

Bewildered, Rete subtly gestured for Simon to sit down, but he simply smiled and said,

"My name is Skar Seraphino, an apprentice priest. Would it be all right if I prayed for you all?"

At that, everyone stopped what they were doing and began to put their hands together in prayer as if waiting for this.

After skillfully setting the mood, Simon also put his hands together and began to pray.

The prayer was made to be something everyone could relate to.

Health. Luck. Happiness.

Every time Simon finished a sentence, people everywhere muttered, “Ita est.”

Upon finishing his prayer, Simon calmly lowered his hands.

"It is a pleasant night. We spend each day like this with food and wine given by the Goddess. Belief is not a moment, it is our daily life. It is our habits. Is it not also a kind of faith to be true to the Goddess’s graces?"

Simon looked to Rete.

"Why don't you allow them to focus on the graces bestowed by the Goddess tonight, dear priest?"

Rete laughed inwardly.

He was asking them to enjoy themselves without having to walk on eggshells. In that short time, he took the language of the Holy Federation and melted it into his own, taking control of the locals.

Moving between people's wishes with only his tongue was really like an apprentice priest.

'…I hate to admit it, but he's good. I guess I don't have to worry about him getting caught by the inquisitors on the train.'

Rete nodded her head.

"I'll allow it."

Rete raised her wine glass.

"In praise of the Goddess’s grace!"

"In praise of the Goddess’s grace!!"

Repeated everyone, each taking a swig of wine or water. The atmosphere loosened and people started chatting loudly again. Finally, not paying attention to Rete, they returned to a lively atmosphere where they laughed and had fun.

Simon sat down and said,

"How was that?"

"…Well, you're pretty good."

Rete had been watching Simon's efforts for two weeks, so she said nothing more.

"By the way, how can you pray so well when you don't even believe in the Goddess?"

"Health, luck, happiness. It may not be from faith, but the universal sincerity of humanity can replace that."

Simon also thought he had a good start as a priest. Then, the owner came down and told them that the cleaning was complete.

The two went up to the second floor and unpacked their things.

Exhausted, Rete immediately collapsed on her bed, and Simon asked Rete's permission to go shopping alone.

She looked at Simon suspiciously, then buried her face in a pillow and said,

"Don't make a fuss. And return the moment you’ve bought what you need."

"Alright."

It seemed that scoring points with Rete earlier in the tavern worked well. Simon left the building, feeling the cool breeze upon his face.

* * *

Reaper Scans

Translator - Ramen

Proofreader - Artethrax

Join our discord for updates on releases!

https://dsc.gg/reapercomics

* * *

'First, I need to secure some funds.'

Simon went to the town's antique shop after asking the residents. There, he cashed in an ancient coin similar to the one he handed over to the broker.

The coin was worth less than the one he had given to the broker, but he managed to get money to spend in the Holy Federation during the holidays.

The currency system of the Holy Federation was unified under the 'Blanc', the exchange rate being approximately:

1 silver = 100 blancs.

1 gold = 100k blancs.

He had just received 20 million blancs for that coin, which was about 200 gold in the Dark Territory.

This was far more than enough for mere traveling.

 "Where's the market in this village?"

"Ah! At this time, you’d be looking for the night market. Follow that road and take a left."

"Thank you!"

Simon naturally mixed in among the villagers. He sometimes felt a strange thrill that he was in the Holy Federation whenever he remembered he was a necromancer. Of course, he was confident he wouldn't be caught. Not with how he spoke at the inn.

'Yeah, people can live here.'

He felt the hostility between the Dark Territory and the Holy Federation was the issue.

The Holy Federation taught that the Dark Territory was a cursed land occupied by demons. 90% of the land was rotting without the grace of the Goddess, not even a single blade of grass would grow, and most of the people had been turned into zombies.

It was described as a place of evil.

The Dark Territory was no different in its depictions of the enemy.

They described the Holy Federation as a place where corrupt priests exploited commoners to death for the sake of the Goddess. It was said that the bodies of the starved were piled like mountains on the streets.

But that was far from the truth.

In fact, just setting foot in the other person’s nation was enough to immediately see that they were all wrong.

'Woah.'

He arrived at the night market. Bright, exotic lanterns were lit everywhere, and numerous stalls were tightly packed.

Simon, a stranger, wandered around the market full of lights, fully enjoying the feeling of traveling.

'First, I need to buy…'

Simon stopped in front of a stall.

"Benedictio deae! May the protection of the Goddess be with you, adventurer. Is there something you're looking for?"

Merchants of the Holy Federation were less noisy touts. Instead, when a person stopped and looked at their goods, they immediately ran out to greet them and actively tried to sell their products.

"How much for this?"

What Simon took out was a mask that could cover his entire face. It was a white frame with black, geometric patterns over the creases in the eyes and cheeks.

"5,000 blanc!"

About 50 silver. Didn't sound too bad.

'Then which one should I pick?'

There were many similar designs, so Simon contemplated what color to choose.

* * *

It stunk.

The man first noticed the smell thirty minutes ago. As if possessed, he had turned around and entered the night market.

'…'

There are many people in the market.

When there were many people, the smells also mixed.

But this terrible stench, slightly burnt and stale, was clear even amid countless scents.

'The odor of jet-black.'

The man walked, relying only on his sense of smell and not his sight.

He bumped into some people, who got annoyed or yelled at him, but the man ignored them. All he could think about was that putrid smell.

The characteristic burning smell of jet-black. And the stench of corpses.

The man was sure.

'A necromancer is here.'

He looked around and moved with haste.

'The smell is strong.'

The burnt aroma poked his nose.

This was the right place.

He quickly stopped and looked around.

Where? Where was that bastard?

Nearby the man frantically looking around, Simon, among the crowd, was choosing a mask from a stall.

Simon chose a mask he liked, paid the price, and walked away.

"You."

Yank!

The man hurriedly jumped in and grabbed him by the collar.

However, the one he grabbed wasn't Simon, who had just passed by, but a big guy next to him. The guy frowned. 

"Wh-What's wrong, you bastard?"

The man ignored him and tore off the front of the big guy's shirt. Then, he stuck his nose into the guy’s skin, right next to the heart.

Sniff sniff.

His nostrils flared up.

It didn't smell burnt. It was just the stinky, nasty smell of sweat. The man was about to vomi—

Thuuuud!

Struck by the big guy's fist, the man fell to the floor. The guy shouted in disgust,

"You're crazy! Who the hell are you?"

Murmur murmur.

The people of the market backed away and formed a circle around the two.

"What is it, a fight?"

"Woah, look at the size of him."

The big guy came closer, cracking his knuckles in fury. The man stumbled up to his feet.

'Dammit.'

The scent of blood wafted up to his nose, and he lost track of the burnt smell.

Rage overtook him. He had let the necromancer barely escape.

"Goddess,"

The man drew the sign of the cross. Then, he started mumbling in a small, cold voice,

"I waited for this time of judgment. Once again, today, I'm sending your creation back to your arms, Goddess. If his sins are light, please embrace him, and if his sins are heavy, throw him into eternal damnation."

"What are you talking about, asshole? Looks like you haven't beaten up enough yet, huh?"

As the big guy strode closer, the surrounding crowd quickly split to get out of the way of either person being thrown back. Then, the big guy roared and thrust his fist.

Tap.

The man's raised hand easily blocked the punch.

It didn’t matter how much strength the big guy applied. His fist didn’t budge, even when trying to pull it back out.

Crack!

"K-Kuaaaaaaaagh!"

The back of his hand and wrist touched. When the man released the hand, the big guy fell to one knee, clutching his broken wrist.

"Are you…"

The man squatted down and met the guy’s eyes.

"…a heretic?"

His face turned pale when he heard that word.

The people around him reacted the same. They either covered their mouths or screamed. People on the outskirts of the crowd even turned their backs and ran.

"I lost him because of you. You did it on purpose, didn't you? What's your relationship with him?"

A subspace opened behind the man's back.

Clang! Thud! Thump!

Numerous torture devices tumbled to the floor, including sharp wheels, knives, torture racks, large saws, clubs, and spiked maces.

"Inquisitor Methyn…"

He gripped a spiked mace and raised it over his head.

"…will now commence his inquisition."