...
Early the next morning.
Faint dawn light pierced the thin mist, draping over the staff villa district of the Undead Major.
Lynch clutched a small, carefully oil-paper-wrapped packet of Ghost Moss Tea to his chest. Looking gaunt and utterly drained, he dragged himself out of Instructor Annabella's villa.
His steps faltered. With sunken eyes and heavy dark circles, he swayed as he walked. Every ounce of his vitality seemed completely squeezed out; he was so frail that a stiff breeze could have knocked him over.
Just then, a second-floor window pushed open with a CREAK.
Instructor Annabella leaned out.
She wore nothing but a loosely draped silk nightgown. The sheer fabric hugged her breathtaking curves. Her skin glowed with a dewy radiance, like a fairy that had drunk its fill of morning dew, while her lake-blue eyes gleamed with deep satisfaction.
She flashed a bright smile and waved at the frail silhouette below, her voice carrying a lazy, lingering reluctance.
"Leaving already, Little Lynch? Your instructor had a wonderful time last night. It's been so long since I felt this refreshed! Thank you, and you're always welcome to stay over again. My door is always open for you!"
At the sound of that witch-like whisper, Lynch shuddered violently. His staggering gait instantly sharpened into a desperate sprint. Not daring to look back, he vanished at the end of the path in the blink of an eye.
He didn't stop until he SLAMMED the flimsy wooden door of his cheap dorm shut. Pressing his back tightly against the panels, he gasped for air and slid to the floor, his heart pounding with lingering dread.
Recalling the unbearable ordeal of the previous night, he shivered again, wrapping his arms around himself.
"So scary... my beautiful instructor is absolutely terrifying!"
All those romantic tropes and steamy scenarios were nothing but lies!
Last night, Instructor Annabella's promise to "teach him a lesson" turned out to be a literal, grueling academic lecture.
After dragging Lynch into her home, she began to lecture him with maniacal intensity.
From basic subjects like *Identification of Undead Creatures and Contracting Essentials*, to *Seventeen Stable Configurations of Negative Energy Particles in a Magic Model*, and even *Practical Application and Countermeasures of Low Tier Curse Magic*... the list went on.
She employed a brutal force-feeding teaching method, shoving massive amounts of knowledge directly into his brain.
The most absurd part—the part that still made Lynch tremble in fear—was her multitasking.
As Annabella murmured into his ear with that cool, melodic voice, she forced him to enter a state of Meditation to comprehend and digest the information simultaneously.
Whenever he slacked off or his Meditation efficiency dropped, she struck.
That alluring, witch-like voice would echo in his mind: "Little Lynch, you're getting distracted again. Let your instructor help you focus."
Then, a Mental Lash would strike his fragile soul. The agonizing pain felt like a thousand piercing needles, jolting him instantly awake. It worked better than any Awakening Potion.
And so it went.
Throughout the entire night, the notification chimes from the invisible interface in his mind rang incessantly, like a broken machine.
[You have listened to your instructor's in-depth lecture and undergone forced deep Meditation. You have gained insight into Summoned Skeleton. Experience +15...]
[You have performed extreme Meditation under mental oppression. Basic Meditation Skill Experience +12...]
[Your... Weakness Curse Experience +8...]
[Your... Skeleton Resurrection Skill Experience +11...]
The whole process had been genuinely terrifying.
Lynch felt as if his instructor had wrung his brain completely dry, thinning his very soul in the process.
However...
After catching his breath and slowly crawling back into his hard bed, his emotions became surprisingly mixed.
Setting aside her bizarre teaching methods, the rewards... were undeniably massive.
In just one night, the experience bars for every Skill on his interface had surged. Basic Meditation Skill, in particular, was less than halfway from reaching Level 2.
More importantly, after enduring a night of inhumane mental lashing and extreme pressure training, his Spiritual Power capacity had increased. Its purity and his control over it had also improved by leaps and bounds.
This was vastly more efficient than burying his head in solitary training.
"It's just that this teaching style... is a bit rough on the students," Lynch muttered to himself.
Carrying that complex mix of pain and joy, he drifted into a deep slumber.
****
He slept fitfully, plagued by endless nightmares.
With a shrill scream of "Instructor, please no!", Lynch jolted upright on his hard bed. Cold sweat coated his forehead, and his chest heaved violently.
A moment later.
He snapped out of his daze, realizing it had only been a dream.
But the dream had been far too real and incredibly horrifying.
He dreamt he was chained and shackled, imprisoned by Instructor Annabella in a room littered with pink-tinted Skeletons.
His instructor had worn a cutout leather suit and high heels, wielding a thorny whip forged from pure Soul Energy.
Cracking the whip, she had purred in a seductive voice, "My sweet little Lynch, your instructor is doing this for your own good. You need to eat more Skill Books to level up faster."
Then, pulling out Magic Books thicker than bricks, she had pried his jaw open and shoved them down his throat, forcing him to eat them...
"Damn it, what the hell was that..."
Lynch shook his head vigorously, banishing the lingering terror of the nightmare from his mind.
Thankfully, his stomach GROWLED with hunger, grounding him back in reality.
He scrambled out of bed and splashed cold water on his face, washing away his chaotic thoughts before heading straight to the Third Cafeteria.
It was lunchtime, and the cafeteria buzzed with a cacophony of voices.
Lynch ordered a massive pile of food, found a corner seat, and began to wolf it down.
As he buried his face in his meal, the chatter of the surrounding apprentices drifted over to him.
The center of their gossip was none other than the ambush Barry and his group had suffered the night before last.
"Did you hear? Barry Aiken and his crew went out for a mission the other night, and they ran into that evil Necromancer who massacred the village near the edge of the Black Swamp!"
"No way! Are they alright?"
"Lucky bastards didn't die. Word is they got beaten half to death and are still unconscious. Thank the gods our Undead Major's Instructor Annabella showed up in time. She wiped out the evil Necromancer and dragged them back."
"Instructor Annabella is so badass."
"Hmph, Barry and his guys are embarrassing. Four of them getting wrecked by a single Necromancer like that..."
The discussions clearly split into two distinct attitudes.
The apprentices from the Holy Light System mostly felt that Barry's group had lost face and smeared the reputation of the Holy Light Major, speaking of them with heavy disdain.
Meanwhile, the apprentices from the Undead System stood tall, their faces glowing with shared pride.
They strutted around as if they were the ones who had crushed the evil Necromancer and saved Barry's group, rather than Instructor Annabella.
Listening to the gossip while stuffing mushroom-soup-soaked bread into his mouth, Lynch's lips twitched slightly.
Well then. His instructor worked fast; the news had already spread.
This completely cleared him of any involvement, buying him some time to lay low and grow stronger.
He demolished the mountain of food in record time and let out a satisfied burp.
When the nearby Undead apprentices tried to rope him into their discussions, he merely offered perfunctory agreements like, "Yeah, Instructor Annabella is really powerful," or "Our Undead System has its top experts too."
He had no interest in joining the chatter.
Once full, Lynch didn't dawdle. He returned to his dorm, grabbed his mission items, and headed to the academy's Training Hall.
Under the gaze of the crowd, Lynch calmly walked to the mission settlement counter, handing over his mission tokens and gathered materials one by one.
The person handling the settlements was an old Elemental System Mage with graying hair and a crystal monocle.
He inspected the items carefully. When he reached the mission receipt for [Assist Reed Village in Exterminating the Fishman Tribe], he raised his eyelids, giving Lynch a look laced with surprise.
The Training Hall rated this mission at a medium difficulty level, typically requiring a full squad to complete. He hadn't expected this plain-looking Undead apprentice to finish it entirely alone.
"[Exterminate the Fishman Tribe] mission. Completion grade: Excellent. Reward: 120 credits."
"[Gather Fluorescent Bacteria] mission. Completed. Reward: 40 credits."
"[Collect Iron Wire Reed] mission. Completed. Reward: 50 credits."
The old Mage recorded the information as he called out the results. Finally, he concluded, "A total of 210 credits. They have been transferred to your student badge."
"Thank you, Sir Mage," Lynch said, taking the returned badge with a surge of satisfaction.
"You have quite the skills, young man." The old Mage adjusted his monocle and offered a warm smile. "Any interest in transferring to the Elemental System? I could be your guide."
"Just luck, mere luck." Lynch put on an honest, simpleminded smile. "I think my current major suits me fine, but thank you for your kind offer, sir."
After exchanging a few more humble remarks, he quickly left the noisy Training Hall.
What a joke. Elemental Magic was certainly powerful, but how could it ever match the strength of Undead Magic?
If anything, he could just recruit a few more Elemental Skeleton Mages.
...