Chapter 21: Episode 21

“Aaaargh!”

Pier recoiled from Simon as if he had been burned.

“Horrifying! Utterly horrifying! The son of my dearest friend and my sworn enemy! How can this be possible…!”

It was the first time Simon had ever seen Pier so flustered. A mischievous impulse struck him. Clearing his throat, he did his best impression of his mother’s voice.

“Darling—dinner is ready!”

“Gaaaaah! Stop! Stop it! The nightmares! The nightmares are returning! Get out of my head!”

Simon clutched his stomach, roaring with laughter at the sight of Pier’s torment. It was the perfect revenge for having to listen to his father’s embarrassing history. Somehow, he felt this would bring him and the ancient skeleton closer.

“I look forward to working with you, Pier,” he said, a wide grin on his face.

“Don’t you dare smile like Anna! Damn you!”

“Hahaha!”

—

The next morning, Simon spent the last day of his weekend with Pier, learning the fundamentals of commanding the Legion.

“It is a grave mistake to think of the undead as living creatures bound by common sense!” Pier lectured. “When an undead under a necromancer’s control devours someone, it is because their master lacks a fundamental understanding of what they are!”

Pier’s lessons were taught from the perspective of the undead themselves—a refreshing and fascinating departure from the Kizen professors’ point of view.

“The undead are moved by a powerful death-will! The closest a human can come to understanding this is through a firm, unwavering ‘intent’.”

Simon tilted his head.

“Intent?”

“Precisely! Let me give you an easy example. Say you, a Kizen student, encounter an irritating senior. You think to yourself, several times a day, that you want to kill him. The undead at your side will remember that intent.”

As Simon nodded along, a sudden chill shot through him, and the hair on his arms stood on end.

“Wait a minute. Don’t tell me…!”

“That’s right. The moment you are out of sight, that undead will try to devour your senior!” The flames in Pier’s eye sockets blazed. “Even if your ill will toward that person fades! Even if he disappears from your memory over time! The undead will forever seek his life.”

“N-No way!”

Pier cackled.

“Don’t worry, I’ll remind you of these precautions from time to time! Now, back to the main point. When controlling the undead, what’s most important is a powerful will. Boy! Command that skeleton standing by the wall to attack it!”

“Ah, yes, sir.”

Simon stood and extended his right arm.

“Attack that wall.”

’Clack.’

The skeleton charged forward, then began to feebly scratch and kick at the wall.

“That’s not nearly enough,” Pier said, shaking his head.

“…Then what should I do?”

“Watch closely.” Pier’s gaze turned menacing. “When you order an undead to attack, you must harbor hatred for the target, no matter what it is! It is the murderer of your parents! The demon who killed your lover! You must hate that wall more than anything else in this world! Destroy it! Tear it apart! Bathe in its blood!”

The skeleton’s half-hearted thumps began to change. It clawed at the wall with enough force to leave deep scratches, then started ramming its whole body into the stone. As it did, Pier’s voice grew louder, more frenzied.

“Die! Die! Die! Die! You don’t deserve to live! You shouldn’t even exist! Die in agony! I will tear you limb from limb and feed your entrails to the pigs! I will savor every last piece of your flesh, chewing it slowly! Die! Die! Die!”

’CRACK!’

’BOOM!’

’CRASH!’

The assault intensified. The skeleton began smashing its skull against the wall, letting out a blood-curdling shriek. Simon’s face paled at the terrifying display.

“Do you understand now, boy? The stronger the will, the more you can draw out an undead’s latent power and aggression!”

“…By cursing at it?”

“I was merely explaining it from a human perspective. The words themselves are not important! A first-rate necromancer can imbue even a simple command to chop firewood with a deep-seated will! And negative emotions like anger, hatred, and murderous intent are far more effective for the undead!”

But Simon was barely listening. The skeleton attacking the wall was shattering itself, breaking apart beyond repair.

“P-Pier! At this rate…!”

“Make it stop. You are the Legion’s Commander.”

Simon nodded and turned to the skeleton.

“That’s enough! Stop now!”

But the skeleton didn’t stop. Its skull was cracking, its hands dangling uselessly, yet it continued to hammer against the wall, screaming with frenzied abandon.

“Can’t you hear me? I said stop!”

The skeleton paid him no mind. It began to convulse, its aggression only escalating. Pier watched in silence. It might be a shocking sight for the young Simon, but it was a necessary lesson—one that needed to be seared into his mind. The power of will, and the weight of a necromancer’s command.

That skeleton would not stop until it was dust. Even if its body crumbled, leaving only hands and legs, it would continue to strike the wall until its very existence was erased. That was the nature of the undead.

“STO—P!!!”

Simon’s eyes shot open as he roared. The air trembled, and the ceiling vibrated. It was a shout so raw that even Pier flinched.

And then…

The skeleton froze. Its gaze still flickered toward the wall, but it didn’t dare disobey Simon’s command.

“Hey,” Simon panted heavily, glaring at the undead. “If you ever disobey my order again, I won’t let you off easy.”

He couldn’t bear to watch a summon he created destroy itself so horribly. Under Simon’s menacing glare, the skeleton hastily averted its eyes from the wall and stood at attention.

Pier let out a small gasp. ’That brat… he’s already using an absolute command?’ he thought, stunned. This wasn’t a level one could reach simply by being told to imbue a command with will. This was far beyond his expectations. ’Richard! What kind of monster have you been raising in that rural backwater?’

Simon wiped his mouth with his sleeve and straightened his posture. He scratched his head, looking embarrassed, as if the outburst had never happened.

“Pathetic, right? I can’t even control my own undead.”

“No. You did well.” The praise was entirely genuine. “In a real battle, you won’t have time to spew curses or shout threats. Continue to train so you can move the undead with a single, will-infused command!”

“Yes, I underst—”

Suddenly, Simon staggered, pressing a hand to his forehead. A sharp pain throbbed in his temple.

“You’ve overexerted your mind,” Pier said. “The profession of a necromancer often goes hand-in-hand with mental ailments. Be sure to get enough rest!”

“Ugh, okay.”

Rest was one thing, but he also hadn’t eaten since the previous night. Simon decided it was time to head back to Kizen.

“You’ll need a way to communicate once you’re back at Kizen!” Pier produced a small skull from thin air and tossed it to him. “It’s a clone of myself. If anything happens at Kizen, use this to call me.”

“Oh, thank you.” The skull felt surprisingly soft. Simon took a pin from his bag and attached it to his uniform, much like how other students decorated theirs. It didn’t look half bad, almost like a fashion accessory.

“I’ll see you again next weekend, Pier.”

“Heheh! I’ll be expecting new accomplishments in a week’s time!”

“Of course!”

Simon gathered his things and left the ruins.

—

By the time he reached Kizen, dusk was beginning to settle. After reporting his return, Simon headed for his dorm.

[Ahahaha! Long time no see, Kizen!] chirped Pier’s clone, dangling from Simon’s uniform. Of course, only Simon could hear its voice. [You said the student protection period isn’t over yet, right?]

“That’s right. It ends next week.”

[Excellent! I foresee much entertainment ahead! Kuhuhu!]

Simon opened the door to Room 409. Dick was lying on his bed; Kajan had been gone all weekend.

“Oh, Simon! You’re back?” Dick said, his face lighting up as he sat up.

“Hey, Dick. Good weekend?”

“It was all right. Since it was the first weekend, I just focused on meeting some merchants and securing a few investment promises. How about you?”

Simon placed Pier’s clone on his desk, took off his uniform jacket, and hung it in the closet.

“I just met up with someone I know. It was a pretty good weekend.”

It was more than just ‘pretty good.’ Over the weekend, Simon had become one of only seven Legion Commanders in the world. On the desk, Pier’s clone grinned slyly.

“Glad to hear it. Oh! More importantly, have you seen next week’s schedule?”

“No, not yet.”

Kizen’s faculty were all active necromancers, and students’ schedules often changed due to missions or other matters. The entire student body had to check the new schedule once a week.

“Tomorrow, we have ‘Basic Black Magic’ for both morning and afternoon classes.”

“Basic Black Magic… That’s the class with the group project, right?”

“That’s the one.”

All Kizen first-years took nine classes: ’Cursology’, ’Jet-Black Dynamics’, ’Summoning’, ’Necrology’, ’Hemomancy’, ’Venomology’, ’Combat Magic’, ’Defense Against Divinity’, and ’Basic Black Magic’. The most unique among them was ’Basic Black Magic’, as the professor for that course also served as the homeroom advisor for Class A. The class was conducted in groups, and students were evaluated on all eight of the other subjects.

“I really hope Professor Bahil is in charge of Class A,” Dick mused. The teleportation incident had clearly left a strong impression on him. “Anyway, that’s not the most important thing. Looking at the schedule, it seems like we’ll be forming groups in class tomorrow. And once a group is formed, it stays together for the entire semester. This is a matter of life or death for our time at Kizen.”

“You’re right.” A group that would stick together for a whole semester. It was undeniably crucial. Simon’s expression turned serious as he considered the implications.

“We have to be extremely strategic about this,” Dick said, his eyes gleaming. “Ideally, we need four members who excel in different subjects. I’m pretty average across the board, but my highest entrance exam score was in Jet-Black Dynamics, so I’m aiming for that.”

Simon thought for a moment.

“I haven’t taken any exams yet, but… I think I’m best at Summoning.”

“Okay! So that’s one for Summoning and one for Jet-Black Dynamics. That’s a great balance!” Dick flipped through a notebook filled with profiles of the Class A students. “In that case, our number one recruitment target has to be a Cursology prospect.”

“Cursology? Why is that?”

“Let me explain. Look.” Dick set his notebook down and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and a quill. “There are certain subjects at Kizen with the highest grade weighting. They’re commonly known as the ‘Three Great Arts of Necromancy’: Cursology, Jet-Black Dynamics, and Summoning. Students just call them the ‘Big Three’.”

Dick neatly wrote the three subjects on the paper and circled them. Simon studied the note with a thoughtful expression.

“So we’ve got two of the three covered. That’s why we need a Cursology specialist.”

“Exactly! You catch on quick, Simon! Well, Summoning has lost some of its prestige lately, so some people replace it with Necrology, or even include all four… but these three are still the most widely recognized pillars.”

Simon nodded.

“And below the Big Three, you have the ‘Four Major Disciplines’: ’Necrology’, ’Hemomancy’, ’Venomology’, and ’Combat Magic’. These are also important, but students usually pick one to specialize in rather than trying to master them all.”

Dick wrote down all seven subjects, then added the last two at the bottom.

“Finally, you have the support subject, ’Defense Against Divinity’, and the comprehensive required course, ’Basic Black Magic’. These two are mandatory, and you can’t major in them.”

“Got it.” Simon ticked them off on his fingers, organizing the information in his head. “The Big Three. The Four Majors. And the two required courses. Nine subjects in total.”

“Right.”

“And a group has four members, correct? If we recruit a Cursology prospect and complete the Big Three, who should our last member be?”

“That’s what we need to figure out right now!” Dick said excitedly, flipping to a new page. “First off, we should avoid anyone specializing in Combat Magic. Those types tend to be amazing at that one subject and terrible at everything else. I took notes during Professor Hongfeng’s class.”

“…You even have to consider things like that.”

“Of course. And generally, Cursology prospects also score high in Defense Against Divinity, while Hemomancy students are often compatible with Venomology and do well in that too. You have to know all these tendencies.”

Simon and Dick stayed up late into the night, planning their recruitment strategy. Dick, with his vast knowledge, took the lead, but Simon, listening quietly, would occasionally offer a sharp insight that made Dick pause and adjust their plan.

Finally, they were done.

“Perfect! So, we’re set with this?”

“Yeah.”

They had a ranked list, from one to ten, of their top recruitment targets for tomorrow’s class.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep