...
Afterward, Lynch tugged at the wide, black robe on the body. It was covered in filth and reeked of rot and decay. The fabric felt coarse, and though it seemed tougher than ordinary cloth, it had no energy fluctuations whatsoever.
'Ugh, it's stinky, dirty, and has no special functions. Trash...'
He grimaced in disgust and tossed it aside.
Before long, Lynch had stripped the dead Necromancer bare.
However, what shocked Lynch was how fucking poor this guy was!
After looting the entire body, the Gold Coins, silver pieces, and copper plates—all the bits and pieces—added up to only a few dozen gold, barely enough to buy some Basic Potions.
'Damn. All that skill, and he was even worse off than me.'
Lynch shot the corpse a look of profound contempt.
Aside from the Banshee's Kiss, the only other decent prize was the man's Magic Staff.
It was a bone Magic Staff, its top inlaid with a miniature, fist-sized skull. It was far more exquisite than Lynch's own old, worn staff. It felt heavy in his hand, and when he probed it with his Spiritual Power, he could sense that it could slightly enhance the effects of Undead Magic.
Furthermore, there seemed to be an empty magic slot within the staff's shaft, which could be used to store a Tier One Undead System spell in advance for quick activation when needed.
'At least it wasn't a total waste of effort.'
Lynch weighed the new Magic Staff. Though he scorned the Necromancer for being so poor, he was quite satisfied with this staff.
He tucked his old Magic Staff behind his back at his waist, preparing to use this new one as his main weapon.
Of course, Lynch hadn't forgotten the man's bone dagger.
After picking it up and examining it, he found that while it wasn't Magic Equipment, it was well-crafted, made of a hard, sharp material. Selling it for ten-odd Gold Coins wouldn't be a problem.
A dagger was a common weapon. He could keep it for self-defense or use it to "process" materials at critical moments. He found its sheath, slid the dagger in, and tucked it inside his robe.
After dealing with the Necromancer's external possessions, it was time to deal with his "internal" ones.
Don't get the wrong idea. For a Necromancer, what is most precious?
Naturally, it's the soul and the body.
With Lynch's current shallow understanding of the path of death, he couldn't even think about extracting and utilizing souls. He didn't have that kind of ability.
But this corpse, of a Necromancer who had been at Tier One Peak in life, was a far more precious treasure to the current Lynch than any Gold Coins or Magic Staff.
Next, Lynch ordered Bone Jade to drag the naked corpse to a relatively clean, open area. He then had it clear away the messy bone fragments scattered around to avoid affecting the quality of the final Skeleton.
He also personally inspected the area carefully himself.
Once he was sure there were no obvious contaminants nearby, he solemnly raised his newly acquired skull-topped staff, aimed it at the Necromancer's corpse, and once again cast [Skeleton Resurrection Skill].
In a way, this was giving the man a taste of his own medicine.
The obscure incantation echoed through the forest at night, sounding exceptionally grim and terrifying.
A condensed, pale light surged from the skull at the top of the Magic Staff.
Death energy enveloped the corpse. It began to twitch uncontrollably, trying to struggle to its feet, looking just like a reanimated corpse from the legends.
Suddenly...
THUD~~
With a muffled sound, the corpse exploded, splattering blood mist and shredded flesh everywhere.
The next moment, a Skeleton Servant slowly rose from the blood-soaked ground.
Its frame was slightly gaunt, and the color of its bones was different from an ordinary Skeleton Servant's, possessing a faint, dark jade-like texture.
Only its shattered skull seemed to be a silent protest against the cause of its death in life.
Lynch ignored this.
What was important was that deep within its eye sockets were two small balls of eerie green flame, flickering and dancing erratically.
This was...
Soul Fire!?
Lynch's eyes instantly lit up, a look of delighted surprise on his face.
You see, Soul Fire was the fundamental mark that distinguished "Undead Life" from mere "Undead constructs."
The former was a special form of life, possessing a sliver of intelligence, capable of learning, growing, and even evolving.
The latter, on the other hand, were purely mindless tools and cannon fodder.
Normally, only Undead Creatures summoned from the Netherworld were born with Soul Fire.
But there were always exceptions. Some beings who were quite powerful in life, with souls and wills far exceeding the ordinary, had a certain chance of retaining a spark of their spirit when converted into an Undead Unit, thus giving birth to their own Soul Fire.
Moreover, the stronger the being, the higher the probability of generating a Soul Fire upon conversion.
Lynch had read about this in the academy's library.
It was just that his strength had been too low before, so he never had the resources or opportunity to try it.
He never would have imagined that this colleague of his, as poor as he was, would give him such a huge surprise after death.
Of course, after being converted into an Undead, both its former intelligence and strength would be drastically reduced, requiring it to start from scratch.
But regardless, this was a "Mage unit" converted from a Necromancer, one that possessed Soul Fire!
This was a proper Caster, far beyond comparison to that little piece of trash, the Fishman Priest Skeleton, which struggled just to cast a Water Arrow Skill.
At this thought, Lynch glanced behind him with disdain.
That cowardly Fishman Priest Skeleton was standing at the end of the skeleton guard line, staring blankly at the sky with a stupid look on its face.
But in the next instant, his attention returned, and he excitedly began to communicate with this newborn "Skeleton Mage" and test its abilities.
However, he discovered that this one was also dim-witted and slow to react, far from being able to communicate normally.
Lynch expended a great deal of Spiritual Power and patience. Combining gestures with mental commands, it took a Herculean effort just to get it to understand his intent. It tremblingly raised a bony claw and condensed a weakened ball of light for [Weakness Curse].
'Alright, no rush. We'll take it slow.'
Lynch wasn't disappointed. In fact, he was even more expectant.
'After all, it's just a newborn 'baby.' Being able to cast Magic at all is already pretty good.'
Once it experiences a few more battles, absorbs more death energy, and its Soul Fire grows stronger, it will naturally become more powerful. It might even surpass the achievements it had in life.
"From this day forward, your name is 'Bone Mage Calder.'"
Lynch solemnly gave it a name.
This was a surname just as noble as that of the great Legend, the Necromancer—Sandru Kolt.
'Don't you dare disappoint the glory of your ancestor.'
Then, as if feeling that just bestowing a name wasn't enough to show the importance he placed on this "skele-talent" of the skeleton world, Lynch thought for a moment. He then untied the old, gloomy Magic Staff that had been with him for so long from his waist and personally shoved it into the Bone Mage's skeletal claws.
"Here, you use this. Work hard, and there will definitely be a place for you among the backbone of my forces in the future."
After that, he personally went to retrieve the filthy black robe he had discarded. After checking it over and finding no obvious special markings, he then personally draped the robe over the Bone Mage.
'Ah, Bone Mage, it's getting chilly. You should wear a coat.'
This scene was a profound expression of Lynch's endless expectations for this newly promoted core member of his Magic System.
...