Chapter 12: The Necromancer

In the classroom of the Dark Arts division, Professor Harvey stood by Rowen’s side with a gentle smile, patiently awaiting his response.

“Hey, who is this guy anyway? Why did the teacher give him such a prime opportunity?” one student whispered to a few classmates nearby.

“No idea, but I suppose his talent must be impressive,” another replied.

“Oh, I remember now! When I was registering, I saw him during the re-evaluation. He’s the one the teacher mentioned—the dual-element prodigy with nineteen times the average mental power!”

“No wonder, then. With a gift like that, it’s only natural he’d be class president. Anyone would envy that.”

“Hmph, so what if he’s talented? What matters is how you cultivate yourself later on. If I were class president, I’d definitely do better than him!”

The alluring position had set tongues wagging among the students. Under Professor Harvey’s attentive gaze, Rowen rose to his feet and bowed. “I’m sorry, Professor, but I don’t wish to be class president.”

The smile froze on Harvey’s face. “Rowen, I hope you’ll reconsider. The benefits of being our division’s class president are unmatched elsewhere, and I have high hopes for you.”

To be honest, Professor Harvey had been pondering how to nurture Rowen ever since he recruited him from Borsang Town. Rowen’s talent was extraordinary—if he could mold him into another “Thomas,” then…

After all, the teacher who once taught Thomas’s courses was promoted directly to vice president of the Academy when such a genius emerged from his class. The prestige of having trained such an outstanding figure was unparalleled, and with Thomas’s legacy, the teacher’s status was unshakable. Thus, Harvey yearned for Rowen’s agreement.

Seeing Rowen still shake his head, Harvey took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and made an important decision. He looked solemnly at the boy before him and, in the calmest tone he could muster, said, “Rowen, let me add one more condition. If you take on the role of class president for the Dark Arts division, you’ll be granted a chance to study Thomas’s Necromancy Notes!”

As these words left his mouth, Harvey felt a pang of pain—this was his own privilege, now being offered up with reluctance. It was common knowledge that necromancy was the most powerful branch of the Dark Arts, yet in over a millennium, only Thomas had ever become a necromancer at Porter Academy. The difficulty was self-evident.

A chance to read Thomas’s notes could greatly increase the odds of becoming a necromancer. Even though no one had succeeded in the three hundred years since Thomas’s fame, every Dark Arts mage longed for the opportunity to study those notes.

The classroom erupted.

“Thomas’s notes! Oh, my God!”

“Heavens, if only I could lay eyes on them just once…”

“Rowen is incredibly lucky.”

“He’s clever—he refused just now, clearly waiting for the teacher to sweeten the offer. If it were me, I’d have agreed right away and missed out on this golden opportunity.”

At that moment, several attractive girls quietly resolved to get closer to Rowen from then on.

As the students murmured among themselves, Rowen slowly raised his head to meet Professor Harvey’s confident gaze. “I’m sorry, Professor. I must disappoint you—I cannot accept the position, and I may not be attending Dark Arts classes every day in the future.”

“Has Rowen lost his mind?”

“To turn down such a chance—he’s really willful.”

“Hmph, see? Talent is useless without brains. Someone like him will never be strong.”

Looking into Rowen’s resolute eyes, Professor Harvey shook his head in disappointment and returned to the lectern. He understood now—Rowen must intend to major in Lightning Magic. Since Rowen’s affinity for both Dark and Lightning elements was exceptional, the only explanation for such a stance toward the Dark Arts was a deliberate choice to focus on Lightning and abandon the Dark.

With regret, he appointed another talented boy, Simone, as class president of the Dark Arts division.

Now, many of the students glanced at Rowen with confusion, doubt, and even derision.

Rowen could only offer a bitter smile. “Uncle Kus, I’ve just given up such a great opportunity for you. I hope you don’t let me down!”

“Hmph, kid, who cares about that Thomas? If his notes were so effective, why hasn’t a necromancer appeared in three hundred years?” Kus snorted.

“Uh…”

“The key to becoming a necromancer is the training method. I guarantee, my method has a success rate two or three times higher than Thomas’s!” Kus declared.

Rowen’s face fell. “Uncle Kus, does that mean you can’t guarantee I’ll become a necromancer?”

“Kid, you think becoming a necromancer is easy? Even I had to exhaust myself to succeed. With my method, you should count yourself lucky!” Kus, for once, made a rare joke.

“Is necromancy really worth all this effort, Uncle Kus?” Rowen asked.

Floating in midair, Kus nearly dropped to the floor in exasperation. “You know nothing, boy! Never mind that a necromancer can summon a legion of the undead to terrify their foes—just the ‘Necromancer’s Space’ alone is priceless. Simple spatial rings the size of two or three rooms sell for hundreds of thousands of gold coins, and the Necromancer’s Space is several times larger, expanding with your level. Imagine how valuable that is!”

Rowen was stunned.

“Hmph, and that’s only the obvious advantage. Necromancers have even greater, deeper benefits—though you wouldn’t understand them now!”

Rowen was even more astonished. He hadn’t expected necromancy to have so many advantages, and a sense of anticipation welled up inside him. He secretly resolved to master necromancy, no matter what it took.

At that moment, Professor Harvey resumed his lecture.

“Students, Dark Magic is one of the most powerful schools of magic. It not only includes keen detection spells and potent abilities of stealth and infiltration but also, at advanced levels, doppelgänger magic. Most importantly, our Dark Arts contain a formidable branch—Necromancy!”

“Necromancy offers not only the coveted ‘Necromancer’s Space’ but also allows you to command vast legions of undead. As long as you have the mental and magical strength, any dead spirit, no matter how powerful, can become your servant!”

“Unfortunately, in over a thousand years since Porter Academy’s founding, only Thomas has ever become a necromancer.” At this, Professor Harvey glanced at Rowen again, his eyes full of regret.

“Now, let me introduce the magician’s weapon—the staff!”

“As you know, to cast a spell, we must channel our mental power and magical energy outward, releasing them. This process causes significant loss; unaided, only about fifty percent is transmitted—the rest is wasted.”

“With a staff, this loss can be reduced. Ordinary staves can raise the transmission rate to sixty percent, and high-grade mithril staves can reach over seventy percent. So, the staff’s greatest role is conserving our mental and magical power.”

“Most of you aren’t first-level magicians yet and have little power, so you don’t need a staff for now. Of course, if you’re swimming in gold coins, I won’t stop you from buying one.”

His remark drew laughter from the students.

Pleased with the effect of his humor, Harvey continued, “Now, let’s discuss the principles of magic. To cast a spell, three things are required: a magic incantation, magical energy, and mental power.”

“In the process of forming a spell, mental power shapes magical energy into a basic magical model, which then draws in the elemental energy of the world to create a spell. The incantation plays a supporting, catalytic role. Of course, as your level rises, and your mental power increases, you’ll eventually be able to cast lower-level spells instantly, without incantations.”

Professor Harvey sipped some water and went on, “As you cast spells, your mental and magical power will be depleted. To recover, we use ‘meditation.’ Meditation not only restores your power but also raises your maximum capacity. It is an essential method for our cultivation.”

“Meditation requires a tranquil mind, free of distractions. Try to keep your thoughts as clear as possible.”

As Professor Harvey lectured at length, Rowen realized that while his explanations were detailed and rigorous, they were less accessible than Uncle Kus’s. For example, reaching a meditative state—Professor Harvey’s instructions were all platitudes, whereas Kus had given a clear reference: the state just before sleep. Since sleep is a daily occurrence, it was easy to emulate.

Thus, Rowen was even more determined to attend classes only once every week or two, just for reference.

Before he knew it, the class was over. Professor Harvey left, and the students filed out in small groups.

Just as Rowen stood to head for the back mountain, a mocking voice sounded behind him, “Rowen, I really must thank you for handing over the class president position to me!”