Chapter 10

　　"The third disadvantage: Summoning is weak against Priests."

　　This time, even Simon’s eyes flew open. The ongoing conflict with the Holy Federation was the most sensitive issue for the students, and every professor so far had emphasized their subject’s advantages in that regard. But Aaron was proving to be the exact opposite.

　　"I’ve titled it that way, but to be more precise, Summoning is ill-suited for modern warfare."

　　He continued.

　　"Summoning is most effective in an all-out war. In large-scale battles where tens of thousands clash, a summoner has a virtually infinite supply of materials for their undead. However, in this era of armistice, combat has devolved into localized skirmishes, clashing with Priests on missions. It’s an unavoidable trend that Cursers and Spiritmancers, who can strike quickly and cleanly without leaving a trace, are now in vogue."

　　Even as he declared his own major obsolete, Aaron’s expression remained impassive.

　　"And it’s true that Summoning magic is weak against Priests. Imagine your army of undead, created with so much money and effort, crumbling to dust from a single divine spell. It’s simply a bad matchup, plain and simple."

　　Aaron put down the chalk and turned to the students. "There are countless other disadvantages I haven’t mentioned, but the final judgment is yours."

　　Just then, a hand shot into the air. It was the same student who had spoken up first in Cursology.

　　"Jamie Victoria! I’m also curious about the advantages of Summoning!"

　　Other professors might have found such a helpful student admirable, but not Aaron.

　　"I don’t recall giving permission for questions."

　　A chill ran down Jamie’s spine. The other students, who had been relaxed, snapped to attention, their postures rigid. His attire might be a mess, but Aaron was still a first-rate necromancer and a professor at Kizen.

　　"S-Sorry!" Jamie bowed her head.

　　However, as a professor, Aaron was still obligated to answer. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. "The strength of Summoning is numbers. You don’t have to fight alone. With the help of your summons, a single necromancer can deploy a wide variety of tactics. Does that answer suffice?"

　　"Yes!"

　　Aaron crossed his arms. "Whether you take Summoning again next semester or choose it as your major is your decision. However, keep this one thing in mind." His voice turned serious, and he seemed like a completely different person. "If you’re not prepared, don’t even set foot in this field."

　　Aaron was truly different from the other professors.

　　"I’m telling you not to even think about majoring in this field with a soft mindset that will have you whining and wallowing in self-pity, only to come crying for a transfer in your second year because of money problems. Don’t even think about it." A deep-seated resentment laced his voice. The teaching assistants standing behind him sighed quietly. "And if any of you are thinking of choosing Summoning as your major just to survive because the competition is low, I will personally see to your expulsion. That is all."

　　It was nothing short of a declaration of war against his own students.

　　"…Now, let’s begin."

　　Returning to his languid tone, Aaron gestured. The assistants moved swiftly, placing skeleton kits on each student’s desk. Simon let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and examined the kit. Bone fragments were arranged neatly inside a box, and a closer look revealed they were numbered.

　　"What you have are the bones of an Island Ratman," Aaron explained. "It has a skeletal structure similar to a human’s, but it’s simpler and cheaper. Most Summoning novices start with this."

　　An assistant posted a large diagram on the blackboard, detailing the bone structure and corresponding numbers of the Island Ratman.

　　"Let’s begin. Take out the number one skull."

　　With tense faces, Simon and the others lifted the skulls and placed them on their tables. A few of the female students wrinkled their noses in disgust, but that was the extent of it. As expected of Kizen students, there was no hesitation in their actions.

　　"The skull is pre-assembled. There’s an opening on the underside for your hand, and inside is a magic circle correction frame. Everyone, insert your hand and construct the magic circle."

　　It was true. The frame was similar to the one from their Cursology class, but this one was carved directly into the bone. Simon channeled his Jet-Black, letting it flow into the grooves.

　　Good. He was getting the hang of using these tools.

　　"And when the magic circle is complete—"

　　"Aaaah!"

　　"Agh! No!"

　　Screams erupted from all sides. The moment the magic circles were finished, the skulls sprang to life, jaws clattering violently. Startled students dropped the skulls or tumbled out of their chairs in shock. Even Dick, in the next seat, was panting with a hand pressed to his chest.

　　"When the magic circle is complete, the undead will activate, so don’t be surprised… is what I was about to say. Seems I was a little late," Aaron said with a smirk. A few students glared at him resentfully but didn’t dare protest.

　　Meanwhile, Simon completed the magic circle in his own skull. The bony head began to clatter and roll around on the desk as if it were alive.

　　"Stay still." Simon caught the head just as it was about to fall and set it back down. As if it understood, the undead quieted.

　　"…Simon, have you done this before?" Dick asked, looking disgusted. He seemed unwilling to even touch his own undead.

　　Simon shrugged. With a necromancer for a father, having skeletons wandering around the house wasn’t exactly unusual.

　　"Get used to it. You’re necromancers," Aaron said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "With the magic circle activated, the undead is essentially complete. Of course, it can’t move without a body. Now, it’s your turn to build it."

　　He tapped the diagram of the Island Ratman on the blackboard.

　　"A necromancer must be perfectly familiar with the bone structure of their summons. A human typically has 206 bones, but an Island Ratman has only 53, so it’s much easier. First, find the number two neck bone."

　　The students rummaged through their kits. Simon quickly found the bone labeled ‘2’.

　　"Now, connect the number two bone to the skull."

　　Simon tilted his head. There were no tools. How was he supposed to attach it? Hesitantly, he brought the bone to the base of the skull. As he did, the bone in his hand began to tremble, pulling toward the skull as if drawn by a magnet. When Simon loosened his grip slightly, the bone snapped into place with a satisfying clunk.

　　Whoa, that’s cool. Simon blinked in surprise.

　　"As I said, activating the magic circle completed the entire spell that animates the skeleton. And skeletons have a natural tendency to return to their previous form," Aaron explained, turning back to the diagram. "Next is the number three bone."

　　He placed the skull on the desk, found the correctly numbered bone, and connected it.

　　"Continue in the same way up to number eleven."

　　"I-It worked!"

　　"Alright!" Happy exclamations soon filled the room. By simply finding the right bones and bringing them close, they would snap into place on their own.

　　Simon’s skeleton, now complete up to the neck, bobbed its head up and down as if in celebration.

　　Simon burst out laughing. This is fun!

　　Maybe it was because they weren’t human bones, but any feeling of discomfort had vanished. It felt like assembling a sculpture from a blueprint, and Simon became completely immersed in the lesson.

　　"Be careful not to confuse the thoracic and lumbar vertebrae," Aaron instructed. "The Island Ratman is bipedal, so completing the spine that supports its back is the most critical part."

　　"If the bones are assembled in the wrong order, its movements won’t be smooth. It will be creaky, have trouble moving, and will likely break down at a critical moment."

　　"Now, proceed all at once up to number sixteen."

　　Many students had been worried by the grim atmosphere at the start of class, but the Summoning lesson itself was proving to be incredibly enjoyable. The room was filled with a boisterous energy as they showed off their creations and asked each other questions. Aaron didn’t try to control the free-spirited mood.

　　"Almost there. Continue up to number fifty-three. If you get stuck, raise your hand."

　　"Professor! The leg assembly isn’t working!"

　　"Wooow, Professor! My skeleton keeps running away!"

　　Without a single misstep, Simon succeeded in creating the skeleton on his first try. A skeleton, slightly shorter than a person, stood before him, its teeth clattering softly.

　　…This is the skeleton I made with my Jet-Black.

　　As he stared at it, feeling a surge of pride, the skeleton tilted its head. The gesture made him smile.

　　"Hey! Control your summon! It’s hitting me!"

　　"I told it to hit you."

　　"Look! I can make it dance!"

　　"…Why is this so cute?"

　　Cheerful laughter echoed through the room. The students who had successfully finished were now busy playing with their new summons.

　　On the other hand…

　　"Simon! Please, take a look at my skeleton!"

　　…there were those who were struggling. Dick was tearing at his hair.

　　"Why does this thing keep attaching its leg to its arm?!"

　　Dick’s skeleton had a right leg where its right arm should be and was hobbling around awkwardly. Other students saw it and clutched their stomachs, howling with laughter.

　　"Hmm." Simon examined the bizarre creation with a serious gaze. "I think you mixed up the leg and arm parts. That’s why the skeleton thinks its leg is an arm."

　　"R-Really?"

　　"Look. Bone number twenty-one is a leg bone, not an arm bone."

　　"Oh, you’re right! Why do they all look so similar?"

　　The Summoning class flew by faster than any other.

　　"That’s enough. We’ll stop the assembly here for today."

　　A collective groan of disappointment went through the room. Aaron, back at the lectern, picked up the attendance book.

　　"Finally, we’ll have a practical demonstration. The student I call will come to the front."

　　The inevitable moment had arrived. Simon swallowed hard. Maybe I can get away with it just this once…

　　"Simon Polentia. To the front."

　　But for Special Admission No. 1, there was no escape. With a look of resignation, Simon stood up.

　　"Do your best, Simon," Dick encouraged, clapping him on the back.

　　A short distance away, Hector and his cronies were snickering.

　　"And next is…"

　　While everyone else avoided Aaron’s gaze, Meirin, sitting in the front row, craned her neck eagerly. Pressure aside, the chance to impress a Kizen professor was a golden opportunity.

　　However.

　　"Hector Moore. Come to the front."