Chapter 490: Episode 490

The lecture hall was shrouded in a confused silence as the twins strode up to the professor’s podium. With their arms crossed in the exact same pose, they stood with their weight on one leg and stared at the students with identical sullen expressions.

Then…

“Haaaah.”

They let out a deep sigh in unison.

“This is hopeless, Lin,” said the girl on the left.

“Are we really supposed to teach these pathetic things from the ground up, Lune?” the girl on the right replied.

“I feel frustrated already.”

“I told her to at least give us the third-years.”

“I told you to just tell Nephthys we wouldn’t do it.”

“Then Nephthys will get pouty.”

“She might not play with us anymore.”

They chattered amongst themselves, completely ignoring the stunned students.

The students weren’t the only ones feeling let down; the professors, too, were finding their new pupils distinctly underwhelming.

“Professor Lin, Professor Lune,” the head teaching assistant interjected, stepping forward with a practiced smile. “Now that you’re on the platform, perhaps you should introduce yourselves to the students?”

He was a charismatic, middle-aged man, exuding more authority than the professors themselves. One could be forgiven for mistaking him for the one in charge.

“‘Professor’ is such a stuffy word, Head TA,” Lin complained.

“It gives me the shivers,” Lune added with a pout.

“But since you asked so nicely, I suppose we have no choice,” Lin conceded.

“Right,” Lune agreed.

The two girls clasped their hands together and raised them toward the class.

“Hi. My name is Lin.”

“And my name is Lune.”

Was that it? As a ripple of confusion went through the students, Lin, the girl on the left, spoke again.

“Any questions, little ones?”

A hand shot up as if spring-loaded, and a male student rose from his seat.

“Pierre Buckler. Are you two professors… not human?”

“Can’t you tell just by looking, Pierre?” Lin chided.

“Don’t be dense, Pierre. We’re not human; we’re undead,” Lune finished.

Simon nodded. That confirmed it. The two were undead—and not just any undead, but Ancient Undead, the most enigmatic beings in the world.

This time, a female student raised her hand.

“Eldarin Luo. You appear quite young, but if I may ask your age…?”

At her words, the twin professors recoiled with identical expressions of horror.

“How dreadful! Such poor manners, Eldarin!” cried Lin.

“To ask a lady her age! For shame, Eldarin!” echoed Lune.

“That’s five demerit points!” Lin declared.

Eldarin flinched, her expression twisting from shock to indignation.

“I—I can’t accept that! Demerits just for asking your age? Kizen is a strict meritocracy…!”

[Power?]

In an instant, the twins’ expressions turned to ice. The temperature in the room plummeted, and a crushing pressure descended upon Eldarin, sending a chill through her entire body.

[What a curious thing to say. You’re right. Kizen is a strict meritocracy.]

[We stand on this platform because we have power, and with that authority, we assigned you demerit points.]

[If you wish to defy that authority, then come up here and prove your own power.]

[Prove that you are more skilled than us.]

From behind the two Ancient Undead, the sound of children’s laughter echoed like a ghostly wail. Eldarin’s lips turned a deathly blue.

“Th-That’s…!”

Just then, a hand tugged at her sleeve. It was Aseraz, ranked fifth, shaking her head with a stern look.

“That’s enough. Don’t poison the atmosphere of the entire class.”

From behind them came a clear, chilling voice. Hector, the Summoning Department’s representative, was muttering coldly.

Ultimately, she had no choice.

“I—I apologize. I will accept my punishment.”

Eldarin bowed deeply to the two girls. Lin and Lune sighed and waved their hands dismissively, the timing and speed of their gestures perfectly synchronized.

The head TA stepped forward again.

“Professors Lin and Lune have served as professors at Kizen on roughly ten prior occasions. Their last lecture series was nearly fourteen years ago, so it’s understandable that you wouldn’t know of them. Furthermore,” he announced, his gaze sweeping across the students, “they are Ancient Undead, bound by a direct contract to Lady Nephthys. I will say no more.”

As the students broke into murmurs, Toto, who sat in front of Simon, muttered, “Still, it feels… strange. Undead teaching humans.”

Simon tilted his head. “Why? It doesn’t seem that strange to me.”

“R-Really?”

In truth, Simon had just taken a lesson from Pier the day before. The weekend tutelage from the Ancient Undead was one of the key drivers of his growth.

He could almost hear Pier’s clone chuckling, ’‘Mwahaha!’’

’Speaking of which, Pier, did you hear that?’

[I heard, boy!]

’They said they’re Ancient Undead contracted to Lady Nephthys. Does that mean she’s a Lord Commander, too?’

[Mwahahaha! Of course not. That woman is a unique case entirely.]

Ordinarily, only a Lord Commander could form a contract with an Ancient Undead and command them. But Nephthys was a necromancer of such a transcendent caliber that the world’s common sense simply didn’t apply to her. She maintained her contract with Lin and Lune through a slightly different method. Of course, the twins were the only Ancient Undead she possessed, and other necromancers couldn’t even dream of imitating such a feat.

“Well then, Professors. Shall we begin the lesson…?”

“Alright, Head TA!” chirped Lin.

“We’re going to squeeze Nephthys dry for this favor!” added Lune.

The twin professors strode to the blackboard. At their gesture, a piece of white chalk and a piece of pink chalk flew into their waiting hands.

Standing on their tiptoes, they began to write the word “Dirge” on the board, perfectly dividing each and every stroke between them. When they drew the final enclosing circle, they both started from the same point, drew one half each, and met at the end with a soft ’thump’.

“Alright,” said Lin.

“Time for a question,” finished Lune.

Having finished writing, the twins turned around.

“Oh,” they said in unison.

More than ten students were already waiting, hands raised high. They had been momentarily taken aback by the professors’ appearance, but now that class had started, all hesitation had vanished.

They had quickly analyzed the situation: a professor who would deduct five points for a single question was likely the type to liberally hand out merits and demerits based on participation. It didn’t matter who stood on the platform; what mattered was what they could gain.

The twin professors, finally satisfied with the students’ eagerness, offered a faint smile.

“Of course we’ll take questions, but…” said Lin.

“The basic concept of a Dirge? That’s far too obvious, isn’t it?” said Lune.

The chattering pair then asked in unison, “Is there a little one here who can explain the ’origin’ of the Dirge?”

The difficulty of the question skyrocketed. All ten students who had their hands raised lowered them with crestfallen expressions.

“No one?” asked Lin.

“Really, no one?” asked Lune.

They scanned the room before their eyes lit up simultaneously.

“Lorraine! There’s Lorraine!” shouted Lin.

“I see her too! I knew you’d be here!” shouted Lune.

Lorraine smiled and bowed her head to the professors.

“We told you the story of ‘The Pied Piper’ all the time when you were little! Why didn’t you raise your hand, Lorraine?” demanded Lin.

“Present! Get up and present! Now!” demanded Lune.

As all eyes turned to her, Lorraine let out an embarrassed laugh and rose from her seat.

“Lorraine Archbold.”

Her calm voice filled the auditorium.

“Will the story of the Pied Piper suffice?”

The twin professors nodded vigorously. She gave a single nod in return, then began to speak, pulling the tale from her memory.

“Once upon a time, in a certain village, there lived a wicked necromancer.”

This necromancer was the lord of the domain, and he lived in luxury by bleeding the villagers dry with exorbitant taxes. But no one could stand against him, for the undead he commanded were immensely powerful.

Then one day, a severe drought struck, and the villagers were on the verge of starvation. Unable to endure it any longer, they took to the streets to protest.

The wicked necromancer deemed this a rebellion. He sent his powerful undead to disperse the crowd and then, as penance for their crime, demanded that one member from each family be sent to his laboratory. Those who refused had their entire families slaughtered.

In the end, the villagers had no choice but to submit. Some volunteered to die for their loved ones, others were chosen by lottery, and even newborn babies, clueless children, and the elderly were dragged away to their deaths.

The villagers survived, but only through the sacrifice of others. Their lives were no better than death. The shadows of their lost family members haunted them, a constant, flickering torment. They began to think it would be better to die than to live in such misery.

“Then one day,” Lorraine continued, her clear voice ringing out in the silent lecture hall where everyone was listening with bated breath, “the Pied Piper visited that village.”

The Pied Piper was also a necromancer. The villagers, having heard rumors of his power, explained their plight and begged him to defeat their wicked lord.

In response, the Pied Piper said:

“You can never defeat the wicked necromancer while you are alive. But you ’can’ win in death. What will you do?”

Tormented by guilt, the residents took their own lives and became the Pied Piper’s undead. The man led his new army to the wicked necromancer’s castle.

However, even with their combined strength, they could not overcome the powerful undead commanded by the lord.

“It was then that the man played his pipe,” said Lorraine.

The melody that flowed from it was not a song, but the collected screams of the family members who had been executed earlier. Hearing it, the undead residents let out roars of pure fury, unleashing a tremendous power that allowed them to tear the wicked necromancer and his minions to pieces.

“And so, having exacted their revenge, the residents were finally able to close their eyes in peace.”

Lorraine sat down. The students began to murmur, exchanging their thoughts on the grim fairy tale.

“…A brutal story, just as you’d expect from the Dark Alliance.”

“Any kid who heard that would be in tears.”

“So, was that a happy ending or a bad one?”

“Maybe it was both.”

“Quiet! Quiet!” the head TA called out, silencing the room.

The twin professors were nodding, thoroughly satisfied.

“We want to give Lorraine five merit points, but!” declared Lin.

“Since you didn’t volunteer on your own, you get nothing!” finished Lune.

Lorraine just smiled. “That’s quite all right.”

The professors returned to the front of the blackboard.

“From that story, who can identify the key principles of a Dirge?”

Simon, Hector, and Aseraz shot their hands into the air. By a hair’s breadth, Aseraz was the fastest. She rose from her seat, a look of pure delight on her face.

“Aseraz Mikel! A Dirge is a form of black magic that strengthens the undead. In the final scene, the Pied Piper’s performance recreated the screams of the sacrificed as a dirge, awakening the power of the undead residents and allowing them to defeat the wicked necromancer they otherwise couldn’t have beaten.”

“Correct, Aseraz!” cheered Lin.

“Five merit points for Aseraz!” cheered Lune.

Aseraz beamed. “Thank you!” she exclaimed as she sat down. Across the room, Hector slammed his fist on his desk, unable to contain his frustration.

“The term and concept of ‘Dirge’ as you humans know it is based on this very anecdote of the Pied Piper,” explained Lin.

“A Dirge is black magic that strengthens the undead,” added Lune.

“The summoning-type undead you humans use have no special means of powering up after they’re created. They only wear down and grow weaker from their initial state,” said Lin.

“But! A Dirge is practically the only way to make an undead stronger,” concluded Lune.

The twins snapped their fingers. The head TA, who had been waiting, opened a subspace and brought two undead onto the platform.

“Ghouls!”

As the head TA raised his arms, the two ghouls lunged at each other, tearing and biting. Their strength was perfectly matched. The head TA spread his arms wide, separating them once more.

“Now!”

The twin professors stepped forward, each placing a hand on a ghoul’s head.

“What happens if we cast a Dirge on one of them?”

The ghoul touched by the professors erupted in black flames. Imbued with the fire attribute, it overwhelmed its opponent, burning it to a crisp.

“Woooow!”

The students clapped enthusiastically, their eyes wide at the sight of the ghoul with fire dripping from its mouth.

“Beyond that!” cried Lin.

“There are Dirges with all sorts of effects!” cried Lune.

The head TA brought out four more ghouls and stepped back. As the twins passed by, their hands touching each one in turn, the ghouls transformed—one radiated a deathly chill, another became transparent as glass, and a third sprouted thorns all over its body.

When they reached the final ghoul, they paused.

“Let’s cast ‘Hypertrophy’ on this one, Lin!” said Lune.

“No! We have to cast ‘Multiplication,’ Lune!” argued Lin.

The two began to bicker over which Dirge to use. The students chuckled softly.

“Hmph! In that case!” said Lin.

“We’ll just cast both!” declared Lune.

They simultaneously placed their hands on the ghoul’s face. Its body began to swell like a balloon, growing larger and larger until…

’Pop!’

Unable to withstand the strain, the ghoul exploded. Students screamed, diving under their desks for cover as chunks of undead flesh splattered against the walls and windows.

“This is what happens when you combine two types of Dirges incorrectly!” announced Lin.

“Greed is a bad thing!” added Lune.

The two professors walked on as if it had all been part of the lesson. The TAs, looking thoroughly accustomed to this, began cleaning up the mess with magic.

“And now!” said Lin.

“It’s time for a practical exercise!” said Lune.

“Today, you’re all going to become the Pied Piper!” said Lin.

“You’re going to experience the origin and the very foundation of the Dirge!” said Lune.

All the TAs raised their arms in unison. A massive magic circle, previously unnoticed, began to glow across the entire classroom floor.

’They set up a teleportation circle without us even noticing!’

Professors Lin and Lune grinned.

“Well then!” said Lin.

“Let’s go!” said Lune.

With a brilliant flash of light, the twin professors and their students vanished from the lecture hall without a trace.

—

He was silent for a moment.

As the disorienting sensation of floating faded, Simon opened his eyes and scanned his surroundings. The other students were picking themselves up from the ground, looking around in confusion.

“Wh-Where are we?”

Countless tombstones jutted up from the ground at odd angles. They were in a cemetery.

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