Necromancer Academy's Genius Summoner

Chapter 172

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Blood fell from Inquisitor Methyn's mace.

The big guy that fought against him was lying on the floor, face caked in red. Methyn let his mace fall to the floor, finally returning to consciousness.

'Ah, my temper got the better of me.'

He almost killed an innocent person again out of anger.

He wasn’t meant to kill ordinary people but heretics and necromancers.

Methyn climbed onto the fallen big man and sat down, grabbing his blood-stained mace.

{Heal}

Whirr!

The man’s battered face started to heal. Then, Meythn took out his communication crystal ball and held it in front of his mouth.

"This is Inquisitor Methyn. Please issue an order for all the personnel on standby to move."

The device buzzed for a moment, then a tired male voice came from it.

[What is it this time? You’re not even working today.]

"A necromancer has appeared. I smelled it."

[…]

The buzzing returned for a few more seconds before the man answered,

[Sending five people your way.]

* * *

Buried in the crowd, Simon was completely oblivious to what was happening around him. The surroundings were very noisy, and, as was always the case in places like this, some drunk people were going wild.

He figured it was just another fight that had erupted.

'Now that I bought something to cover my face, I guess I also need a set of clothes to wear during the trip.'

Simon's next target after purchasing the mask was a new robe.

He was currently wearing a brown, featureless robe. He just grabbed it randomly from his house, and it was already worn and torn.

So, he decided to replace it with something good. He wanted to spend all his 20 million blancs on this trip, not being able to use them when he returned.

Simon looked around and entered a rather large, luxurious clothing store. It was a proper building, not a street stall. A sleek shop owner greeted Simon with a wide smile.

"I need a holyman’s robe. One with a hood."

At that, the shop owner asked for identification. As the Holy Federation had a clear class system, only priests could purchase holymen’s robes.

'It's a bit strange that the clothes you can buy are determined by status.'

After checking Simon's fake ID, the shop owner asked Simon for his sizing and immediately brought a white robe from the closet.

It had a neat design without any complicated patterns. He figured it wouldn't be bad to have a white robe when playing his part as an apprentice priest.

"And the biggest feature of this robe! You can flip it inside out to make it…!"

The shopkeeper turned the robe inside out, changing it into a stylish coat. It was still white, though.

"Also, if you infuse a little bit of mana here…"

She held a crystal ball in her hand and placed it on the coat, turning it blue.

"You can change the color like this!"

"Awesome."

'A robe that changes color and can be turned into a coat, huh?'

It looked pretty useful.

While the shopkeeper eagerly explained the material used for it, Simon grabbed one of the ends of the coat and imbued it with only a drop of jet-black.

'Oh.'

As expected, the section of the coat turned black. A white robe on the outside and a black coat on the inside. He liked it very much.

"I'll take it."

Simon liked the item, despite the price being a bit steep. It was a magic item, after all.

After paying 2 million blancs, Simon—wearing the white robe—left the store with a happy heart. He also still had 18 million blancs on him.

Murmur, murmur, murmur.

However, the atmosphere outside was a bit odd. Simon blended in with the crowd. Only one thing he knew of could make such a racket.

"It's an inquisitor!"

"Don't get too close!"

A group of priests was marching through the crowds in the middle of the night market.

They carried maces, crowns of thorns, torture wheels, and other hideous items.

Their eyes were filled with hatred, bloodstains covered their white clothes, and they oozed with bloodlust. It felt like they'd tear apart anyone who'd lay even a hand on them.

'…That's an inquisitor?'

To Simon, they just looked like a group of blood-crazy murderers.

They were already 'inquisitioning' someone. He was being publicly tortured, his howls so pained they would make even the devils cry.

"What are you, what are you?!"

Repeated an inquisitor with a protruding mouth like a bird's beak as he pressed a crown of thorns down into the victim’s scalp.

"Are you really not a heretic, not a heretic?!"

"H-How many times do I have to say I'm no— Kuaaaaaaaagh!"

People who saw the terrible sight tried to retreat. But the inquisitors reacted sensitively.

"Huh, why are you running away? Are you a heretic?"

"Get them, get them, get them."

The inquisitors called on their divinity, leaped into the air, and descended on the crowd. Screams of confusion erupted from everywhere.

"Don't disturb us. Everyone, on the ground!"

"Come over here, come over here."

An inquisitor with a protruding snout found a woman in the crowd trying to escape. The inquisitor dragged her back by her hair.

"I-I'm not a heretic! I'm a believer from Rohen village! H-Here, I have my ID!"

She held out her ID while choking up with tears. The inquisitor took it, ran his eyes through it, then dropped it on the floor and stomped it into the dirt.

"How can we believe, believe a piece of paper like that? We inquisition people instead."

"Kyaaaaah! Somebody, please!"

She cried and screamed, but people avoided her gaze and lay helplessly on the floor.

'This…'

Simon's fist tightened.

'This isn't anything like an inquisition.'

Directing terror and fear using the inquisition as an excuse… He could understand why many trembled in fear upon seeing a priest.

* * *

Reaper Scans

Translator - Ramen

Proofreader - Artethrax

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* * *

"Get in, get in."

"Ahh, please!"

The inquisitor took out a large torture wheel from his subspace. He pushed the woman against the wheel, fixing her arms and legs to it.

The device was designed to scrape the whole body with sharp spikes on its back as the wheel turned.

She screamed, dreading what was about to happen.

"Tell me, tell me. You're a heretic, are you not?"

"I-I-I have only served the great Goddess! My parents were clerics! Please!"

"I can't believe you. You could be disguising yourself, yourself."

The inquisitor grabbed the wheel.

"If your belief in the Goddess is truly sincere, you can endure this as well, right?"

"Ahhhh! Please…"

Simon clenched his teeth.

He was no fool. Everything would be in vain if he stepped out and revealed himself now.

'Without getting detected… You only have one chance.'

Just as Simon carefully stretched out his hand to create a magic circle…

"Ah."

The crowd started to part like waves.

"Just what do you think you are doing?!"

Simon's eyes also widened. A girl wearing an Efnel uniform was striding toward the inquisitors.

'Rete!'

She glanced at Simon, who was mixed in with the crowd, and signaled with her fingers for Simon to leave it to her.

The inquisitors flinched as if taken aback by the sudden appearance of an Efnel student.

"Hey, you guys,"

She said in a sullen voice.

"are you ignoring me?"

"…"

Amongst the five inquisitors, a man with a barbed chain scythe briskly came forward. He looked down at her, showing blatant displeasure.

"We're partaking in our duties, dear priest."

He grinned, flashing monstrous teeth that jutted from his mouth.

"Even if you're from Efnel, you can't be involved with the inquisition. If you can leave nicely, then—"

Wham!

Rete kicked him in the leg, causing the man to stagger and fall to his knees. He immediately raised his head in defiance.

Slap!

The sound was so loud even the farthest members of the crowd could hear.

"Get up, bastard."

"…"

The inquisitor, a red mark in the shape of a hand on his cheek, glared at Rete. The junior inquisitors in the back looked frightened rather than angry, and the man with the protruding snout was smiling.

"That woman… We need to inquisition her. Strip her, lock her up, tear her skin, and—"

"Silence!"

His fellow inquisitor freaked out and slapped him on the back of his head.

The senior inquisitor who had been slapped by Rete slowly stood up.

"No matter how high a student of Efnel is, you're crossing the line. Dragons and worms alike have their own roles to play. Let us do ours, please. Ours."

"Why do you say I'm crossing the line?"

Scoffed Rete, folding her arms.

"Are you guys really in charge of this place and assigned to inquisitioning heretics at this time today?"

"…"

The expression of the senior inquisitor stiffened slightly. Rete tapped her watch.

"If you guys came here without getting approval from the higher-ups and then tortured the villagers and made a fuss, we'd have a lot to talk about, right?"

"…"

"Shall I check all the schedules, turn everything upside down, and make your boss apologize for it? Or will you just turn your tail and flee?"

The senior inquisitor clenched his teeth.

'This student bastard would be nothing but an ordinary priest if not for Efnel…'

His gaze moved. There were too many people watching to run wild.

Although it hurt his pride, it was best to withdraw instead of provoking Efnel by taking further action here.

"Let's go."

The senior inquisitor turned around. The juniors muttered to each other in bewilderment, but the senior inquisitor ignored them and said,

"Release everyone. We're going back."

Finally, those who were being tortured were released. The woman chained to the Catherine wheel bowed her head at Rete repetitively.

Rete told her to take care of herself and went to treat the wounded.

'But where's Simon?'

The senior inquisitor had similar thoughts.

'Where's that bastard who called us, Methyn?'

* * *

"Kugh!"

Simon, running down the market street, hurriedly lowered his head. Beast-like fangs flew in, stabbing themselves into the wall one after another.

"I found you! The source of the stench!"

Some crazy bastard had suddenly attacked him, saying Simon smelled like something.

Simon hurriedly ran away, and the crazy bastard ran after him, pushing and throwing people aside. He was frantically creating fangs in the air with some sort of light spell and firing them.

'At this rate, innocent people will get hurt.'

Simon left the street and entered a desolate alley.

"Haha! Have you given up on running away?!"

Thud!

Before Simon even saw the priest jump, he had overtaken Simon and landed.

"I shall give you your judgment, necromancer!"

Simon smiled and gathered his hands in prayer after drawing a cross.

"You seem to have misunderstood something. My name is Skar Seraphino. I am an apprentice priest. And… aren't you an inquisitor? Why don't you stop attacking and perform an inquisition first?"

"Forget the inquisition!"

Methyn raised his arms.

Simon's gaze also went up.

A white magic circle was spreading in the sky above his head.

'Crap!'

"There's no need for any inquisition when I have my nose!"

{Exorcism}

Crackle!

A line of divine lightning descended from the magic circle and pierced Simon. He was flooded with light and an explosion burst forth.

"Bwahaha!"

Exorcism was a spell that assured death for necromancers. On a direct hit, the core and body would be simultaneously purified into divinity.

"One problem solved…"