...
Caught up in his excitement, he didn't seem to "notice" the adventurers emerging from a dark alley in their worn Leather Armor.
They exchanged glances, flashing malicious smiles before fanning out to tail him closely.
But they equally failed to "notice" the faint smile creeping onto Lynch's lips beneath his hood.
A few moments later, after weaving his way into a gloomy dead-end alley, his paths forward and backward were blocked simultaneously. Ahead stood two burly men with crossed arms and sinister sneers. Behind him were three thugs with dark eyes, casually flipping daggers in their hands.
The group of five closed in on Lynch, oozing malice.
Lynch halted his steps. Then, under the dumbfounded gazes of the bandits, he unhurriedly drew out his eerie Magic Staff.
With a wave of the staff, he summoned a Bone Jade Skeleton King—who knew which generation this one was. Eerie green Soul Fire danced within its eye sockets, exuding a chilling, terrifying aura. At the same time, a Weakness Curse materialized at the tip of the staff. The ghastly pale light unique to Undead Magic illuminated his face, making him look exceptionally hideous and terrifying.
"An Extraordinary Professional!"
"A N-Necromancer?!"
The five previously aggressive adventurers instantly turned pale, their calves trembling violently. They never dreamed they would try to mug a Necromancer.
Had they faced any other Extraordinary Professional, they might have entertained thoughts of resisting or fleeing. But against a Necromancer, their minds were consumed by chaotic terror—the desecration of their corpses, being forged into Skeletons, and their souls imprisoned and tortured for eternity without any hope of salvation.
"So, then." Lynch flashed a ghastly white smile. "Will you choose to become my Skeleton Servants, or hand over all your money to atone for your sins?"
In the next second.
CLATTER. CLANG.
Daggers dropped to the ground one after another. The five men dropped to their knees in unison, groveling on the floor and begging for mercy.
Indeed.
This was simply Lynch's classic bait-and-switch operation—snagging a little extra prey while he was out. It wasn't his first time pulling this stunt. Whenever he ran short on cash, he could always rely on these "unexpected gifts" from the local wildlife.
Three minutes later.
When Lynch walked out of the gloomy alley with the Skeleton Soldier Bone Jade, he held several deflated coin pouches in his hand, though he didn't look too satisfied.
"Ugh, what rotten luck. Adventurers these days are getting poorer and poorer," he muttered in disdain. "They're carrying nothing but copper plates and silver scraps. It barely adds up to ten gold... Whatever, whatever. Better to catch a few shrimp than no fish at all."
Despite his verbal complaints, he swiftly stuffed the pouches into his coat. After all, even the smallest morsel was still meat.
Fortunately, his overall harvest for the day was quite good. Not only could he pay off all his debts, but he also had some left over. In his delightful mood, Lynch felt an extra spring in his step, his movements imbued with a newfound Lightness.
Three days later.
By the time Lynch woke up on the hard wooden bed in his cheap dormitory, the sky outside the window had already taken on a dusky yellow hue. The exhaustion from the previous night had largely dissipated.
He rubbed his still-throbbing temples. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Bone Jade standing loyally by the bed, the eerie green Soul Fire in its eye sockets flickering softly like candle flames.
"Good, good Skeleton!"
Lynch couldn't help but praise it again. Compared to those crippled Skeletons that hadn't even reached Tier One, Bone Jade was noticeably smarter and vastly stronger.
More importantly, it was fundamentally different from those Skeleton Servants that were haphazardly dug up from mass graves and animated using the Undead Resurrection Skill. From the moment they were born in the Netherworld, they nurtured a wisp of Soul Fire, granting them the potential to grow and evolve.
Rumor had it that the Netherworld Skeletons under the command of powerful Necromancers could even evolve into Skeleton Warriors or Skeleton Commanders. These elites helped their masters command legions of ordinary Skeleton Servants that possessed no sentience and acted purely on instinct.
"Oh, Bone Jade," Lynch said, patting the Skeleton Soldier's smooth shoulder blade as he began to flex his leadership skills. "Rest assured, stick with me and I'll make sure you live the high life in the future... In short, your potential to become a Legend won't go to waste."
Of course, whether it would actually be this specific Bone Jade was a detail Lynch felt no need to dwell on; they all looked practically the same anyway. The Soul Fire in Bone Jade's eyes seemed to dance a bit more merrily, evidently buying into his empty promises.
However, with his stomach currently growling with hunger, grooming his future core subordinates could wait. Feeding his rumbling stomach was the immediate priority.
Picking up his eerie Magic Staff, he chanted a short Spell to Bone Jade, dismissing it back to the Netherworld to rest. This way, it could nourish its Soul Fire and recover its depleted energy. He would simply summon it back whenever he needed it.
Unfortunately, summoning the same contracted Skeleton did not increase his Skill experience. Otherwise, Lynch would have maxed out his Summoned Skeleton experience a long time ago.
After sending Bone Jade away, Lynch changed into a different black apprentice Mage Robe than the one he wore last night. He left the dorm and headed straight for the cafeteria.
In recent years, the Undead Major had been in steady decline. The surroundings were desolate with very few pedestrians. They had even lost their independent dining hall, forcing them to share the Third Cafeteria with the Holy Light Major.
Clad entirely in black, Lynch's robes looked completely out of place in the Third Cafeteria, which was awash in a sea of white robes.
Fortunately, he wasn't the only exception. Over a dozen other students from the Undead Major were also eating there. They had spontaneously gathered in a corner, whispering and chatting among themselves over their meals. Compared to the constant friction between the Undead Major and the Holy Light Major, the internal atmosphere among the necromancy students was actually quite warm.
Lynch sat down with his tray and casually eavesdropped, quickly realizing they were discussing the Leon incident reported in the latest issue of Rumors and Truth.
A sleazy-looking undead apprentice was enthusiastically detailing the event, acting as if he had witnessed it with his own eyes. The other apprentices listened with rapt attention, their faces plastered with schadenfreude and vindication.
Leon had caused no shortage of trouble for the Undead Major students in the past; nine and a half out of every ten apprentices here had been on the receiving end of his harassment. With such entertaining gossip to accompany his meal, Lynch ate faster than usual. After polishing off a massive plate of food, he prepared to head to class.
Many of the Undead Major's classes were held at night, and the locations were often unconventional, brimming with the unique characteristics of their field.
For instance, the Chaotic Burial Grounds.
The back mountain of the Hurst Royal Academy had a specially designated Chaotic Burial Grounds. This place served both as a disposal site for unidentified corpses and as one of the most crucial practical teaching venues for Necromancer apprentices.
In the early years, when the Undead Major was thriving, fresh, unclaimed corpses were transported into this cemetery every day, providing the apprentices with ample teaching materials. But now, with the major's decline and the intentional or unintentional obstruction by the Holy Light Church, the Chaotic Burial Grounds had grown increasingly desolate. They would be lucky to scrape together a few dozen corpses over an entire year.
By the time Lynch arrived at the Chaotic Burial Grounds, all eleven undead apprentices in his cohort had already assembled. Everyone found a relatively clean grave mound to sit on, patiently waiting for their instructor.
Under the cover of night, the cemetery was shrouded in a faint mist and the stench of decay, creating an eerie, silent atmosphere.
Before long, the soft sound of footsteps approached.
Instructor Annabella had arrived.
She looked to be about twenty-seven or twenty-eight, with long blonde hair and eyes as blue as a clear lake. She had fair skin and exquisite features. Even the loose, black Mage Robe she wore couldn't conceal her fiery, graceful curves. Annabella was a rare beauty among Necromancers.
She was an outstanding graduate of the Hurst Royal Academy herself. Afterward, she had traveled far to the Western Continent's famous Realm of the Dead—the Nesto Undying Empire—for further studies. She had only returned last year after completing her education to take charge of Lynch's cohort.
...