Chapter 7
***
Silence descended upon the auditorium.
'...Did they just call my name?'
Simon felt his mind go blank.
"Student Simon Polentia. Are you here?"
Simon swallowed hard and rose from his seat.
The gazes of a thousand peers focused on him.
"Who is he?"
"I have no idea."
"He's number one?"
It was his first time in such a crowded place, his first time receiving so much attention.
Simon gulped and walked to the podium, standing next to Serene.
"Phew."
As Simon exhaled slowly, the emcee approached and patted his shoulder.
"Don't be nervous. Just read what's written here."
"Yes, I understand."
Serene was looking at him. She nodded, and Simon nodded back.
They both raised their right hands simultaneously.
"We swear."
"We swear."
Then, the voices of 998 other students echoed from behind, reciting the same oath.
"We, the incoming students..."
"We, the incoming students..."
Simon's head spun as he spoke.
He wasn't sure if he was speaking correctly, or even what he was saying.
He just followed Serene's voice, doing his best to read each word clearly.
And so, on the very first day of school,
Simon caught everyone's attention.
***
"No way! Whoa! You were Special Admission Number 1?"
Rowan exclaimed excitedly as soon as Simon returned to his seat.
Simon tried to explain the situation, but the tight class schedule began, and they had to move to their classroom immediately.
Despite it being the first day of school and the entrance ceremony, there were no breaks.
The first class started right away.
Simon was assigned to Class A.
The first semester of the first year was conducted without majors, with a total of 14 classes.
Initially, over 60 students attended each class, but this number often halved later on, and class mergers were common.
Simon didn't know anyone in Class A.
Not Lorain, not Rowan, only Cindy Vivace, whom he had met at the bookstore, greeted him with a "Hey! Special Admission Number 1!"
Still, since it was a new class and everyone was awkward, Simon managed to blend in.
'The first class is Curseology.'
Simon settled into a seat in the back row, took out his textbook, and looked up.
He saw the students who had been looking back at him quickly turn away.
Simon smiled wryly and pretended not to notice.
Creak!
The classroom door finally opened, and the professor entered.
A roar of cheers erupted from the students who recognized him.
"Bahil Amagar!"
"Really?"
Some people still pictured necromancers as shadowy figures hiding in the dark, fiddling with corpses.
But that was an outdated image.
Modern necromancers, now mainstream, had a smart, practical, stylish, and trendy image.
The image of being rigid and conservative was closer to that of priests.
And Bahil was one of the representative figures of this new generation of necromancers.
Dressed in a white suit from head to toe, Bahil boasted model-like proportions.
Not only was he exceptionally handsome, but he was also a star necromancer in his late twenties, belonging to Kizen's core force, the "Ravens."
He was an object of absolute admiration for Kizen students.
Bahil smiled and waved in response to the students' cheers.
He heard the squeals of several female students.
"Nice to meet you, new students. I'm Bahil Amagar, and I'll be in charge of your first-year Curseology class this year."
Another round of cheers erupted.
Bahil expertly calmed the students down with a raised hand, then placed his felt fedora on the lectern.
"Shall we take attendance? Since this is the first time you're all meeting each other, please give a brief self-introduction when your name is called."
Bahil called out names from the attendance book.
"Jamie Victoria."
"Yes! It's an honor, Professor! I also want to follow in your footsteps...!"
Bahil extended his hand to stop Jamie and winked playfully.
"You're supposed to introduce yourself to your classmates, not to me. Again."
Chuckles rippled through the classroom.
Jamie Victoria blushed and said she looked forward to spending the semester with everyone.
After Jamie's smooth start, everyone gave simple introductions, expressing their hopes for a good semester.
Simon, knowing it wouldn't be wise to stand out any further in this situation, kept his introduction brief.
Some students appealed to their classmates in preparation for group projects, while others introduced themselves with an air of superiority.
"There are many students with unique personalities. Good."
Bahil put down the attendance book, rolled up his sleeves, and approached the blackboard.
"Then, let's begin the class."
Tap. Tap, tap.
He wrote the two words "Curseology" in large letters on the board.
He pressed so hard when writing the last character that the chalk broke and flew off.
Bahil picked up a new piece of chalk, seemingly unfazed.
"Let's start with a fundamental question. Why should we learn Curseology?"
Bahil had a captivating presence from the very first word.
All the students leaned forward, focusing intently as if they didn't want to miss a single word.
"Can anyone define a curse?"
A bespectacled female student sitting right in front of Simon raised her hand.
"Claudia Menzies! A curse is dark magic that weakens the opponent while maintaining one's own strength!"
"Excellent, Claudia."
The female student blushed at Bahil's praise.
"However, simply saying it 'weakens' the opponent might not resonate with some students. Alright, let's assume we have two knights of equal skill."
Bahil held the chalk like a sword.
"The two knights clash swords and begin a fierce battle. They deplete each other's stamina, waiting for a mistake or an opening."
Bahil wrote "Exhaust" on the board.
"After twenty exchanges, neither opponent has fallen. Then, one knight, with a roar, glares at his opponent with murderous intent. The other knight flinches involuntarily, his face pale with fear."
Bahil wrote "Pressure" on the board.
"Finally, a sword grazes the opponent's shoulder. The opponent starts bleeding, their movements faltering. One knight gradually gains the upper hand!"
Bahil wrote "Bleeding" on the board.
As the duel between the two knights progressed, more and more words appeared on the board.
All of these words were types of necromancer curses.
The students were on the edge of their seats, and Bahil's voice reached a crescendo.
"And finally! The knight decapitates his opponent!"
Bahil lowered his arm holding the chalk, and a deathly silence filled the classroom.
After silently surveying the students, Bahil grinned and wrote the spell "Doom" on the board.
Gasps of admiration erupted from the students.
"Do you understand now? Even the most primal and savage human combat, a simple clash of weapons, is nothing more than a series of steps to weaken the opponent and achieve victory."
Bahil picked up a new piece of chalk.
"Now, let's look at a modern necromancer battle."
He drew a stick figure on the board.
"How does a necromancer defeat this opponent?"
Bahil circled all the curse words he had written so far, then drew a line connecting them to the stick figure.
"Victory."
"Ah...!"
"Among the various dark magic spells, curses have a simple structure and can be deployed quickly. They're efficient enough to completely disrupt the opponent with minimal effort."
Bahil winked at the male student sitting in the front row and, with a flick of his wrist, cast an exhaustion curse at an incredible speed.
"Gasp!"
The male student slumped in his seat, unable to move, his eyes darting around.
Bahil approached him leisurely.
"This is..."
He then drew the magic sword from the student's bag and pretended to strike his neck.
"...a modern necromancer battle."
Oooh!
The excited students jumped to their feet and cheered.
Bahil smiled, bowed in response, and then lifted the curse from the student.
"I don't know what majors you'll choose, but I dare say that at least 80% of you will be in my class again in the second semester. Curses are a highly versatile field of study. While utilizing your specialties, steadily inflict curses on your opponent whenever you have the chance. That will be the most efficient way to secure victory."
He walked back to the podium.
"Now, let's talk about something you might find interesting."
He wrote a new word below "Curseology" on the board.
"Personally, I believe Curseology is the core of modern necromancy. The reason is..."
He wrote "Priest" on the board.
"...because it is the most effective means of dealing with our main enemy."
He brought up a sensitive topic right in the first class.
A strong competitive spirit immediately arose in the students' eyes.
"Now, let me ask you this. Necromancers have 'curses,' while priests have 'blessings.' The difference between weakening and strengthening magic. And here's the thing..."
Bahil smiled.
"Can anyone explain why curses are superior to blessings?"
The classroom fell silent.
As the students exchanged glances, someone raised their hand.
It was Jamie Victoria, the first student called during attendance.
Bahil smiled and nodded.
"Jamie Victoria. Curses have an advantage over blessings in casting speed! You can stack weakening effects faster on the same target!"
"An interesting point."
Bahil crossed his arms.
"But incorrect. When considering casting speed alone, the consensus among scholars is that priest blessings are slightly faster than curses, which need to overcome the target's 'resistance.'"
Jamie bit her lip in disappointment and sat down.
"Any other opinions?"
Then, someone raised their arm.
A tall, well-built male student with a strong jawline, thick eyebrows, and sharp eyes.
"Hector Moore."
"Tell me."
"Very few people train themselves while in a weakened state."
It was an enigmatic answer, but a deep smile spread across Bahil's face.
"Student. What was your name again?"
"Hector Moore."
"I'll remember that."
Ooh!
Envious murmurs rippled through the classroom.
There were a thousand new students.
Since catching the professor's eye increased their chances of survival, having their name remembered was a huge advantage.
"Hector is right. This is because weakening magic cannot be countered through training."
He surveyed the students.
"Everyone trains assuming they are in peak condition. The measure of one's skill is how well they can perform when all circumstances are within their control."
The students nodded in agreement.
"Humans are more delicate creatures than they appear, and can be disrupted by the smallest changes. Simply severing the arm of an archer aiming at you isn't the only solution. Obstructing their vision with conjunctivitis, inducing motion sickness, confusing their sense of distance, or distracting them with other objects can all cause an arrow that should have hit its mark to miss."
Bahil smiled.
"Necromancers possess various means of deteriorating an enemy's condition. But think about it. When you're exhausted or suffering from excruciating stomach pain, how many people train to counter curses? They'd rather just take a day off."
Chuckles rippled through the classroom.
"So remember. We should focus on finding ways to weaken our opponents rather than strengthening ourselves."
The students nodded, their quills scribbling away.
They started taking notes, sensing this was something that might appear on the exam.
"Now, let's have some hands-on experience with curse magic."
Simon, who had been diligently taking notes, suddenly looked up.
'What? We're learning dark magic in the first class?'
***
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