Simon held his breath and stood up. The gazes of thousands of peers were focused on him.
“Who’s that?”
“No clue at all.”
“He’s the number 1?”
It was his first time in a place with this many people, as well as receiving this much attention.
Simon kept on gulping from the tension as he climbed up to the platform and stood next to Serene.
“Pheww.”
As Simon exhaled slowly, the host came and tapped Simon’s shoulder.
“No need to be nervous. You just have to follow what it says here.”
“Yes. I understand.”
Serene was looking at Simon. She nodded her head, and Simon replied by nodding his head back.
Both of them raised their right hands simultaneously.
“We solemnly pledge.”
“We solemnly pledge.”
Then he heard the 998 students shouting the same ‘oath’ from behind.
“That we the freshmen……”
“That we the freshmen……”
Simon’s head spun as he moved his mouth.
He didn’t understand if he was saying it correctly or what it was about. He just did his best to read in line with Serene’s voice and to avoid voice cracking.
And just like that, since the first day of admission,
Simon got everyone’s attention.
* * *
“No way, this is crazy! Woah! You were the 1st special admission?”
As soon as Simon returned to his seat, Rowen shouted in excitement.
Simon wanted to explain his side of the story, but the tight class schedule forced him to immediately go to the lecture room.
It was the entrance ceremony and the first day of school, but they didn’t let the students pass just like that. The first class started right away.
Simon was assigned to class A. The 1st semester of the 1st year was conducted without a major, and a total of 14 classes were held.
At first, over 60 people were in each class, but later this number was often cut in half, and class was frequently abolished and amalgamated.
There was no one Simon knew when he entered Class A. Not just Lorain, but Rowen wasn’t here either. Cindy Vivace, whom he met at the bookstore just greeted him, saying, “Hey Special No. 1!”
Still, since it was a new class, everyone had an awkward atmosphere, so Simon somehow could be covered.
‘The first class is Curses.’
Simon, who sat in the back, took out his textbook and looked up, seeing the students who’d been looking at Simon hurriedly turning their heads away.
Slide!
Finally, the lecture room door opened and the professor entered. A thunderous cheer broke loose from the students who recognized the professor.
“Bahil Amagar!”
“For real?”
When people thought of the word Necromancer, they usually thought of dark and gloomy people touching a corpse and hiding in the shade.
But now, that was nothing but a story of the past.
Modern necromancers who had risen to become mainstream were intelligent, practical, sophisticated, and trendy. Rather, the old-fashioned and conservative image was closer to the priests.
And one of the representatives of this new generation of Necromancers was Bahil.
Wearing a white suit from head to toe, Bahil showed off his model-like proportions.
In addition to his outstanding looks, he was a young necromancer in his late twenties with star qualities and who belonged to Kizen’s core force, the ‘Crow’.
He was a target of absolute admiration for the students of Kizen.
Bahil smiled and waved from the cheering of the students. You could hear some girls screaming.
“Nice to meet you, freshmen. I’m Bahil Amagar, who’ll be taking the 1st year Curses subject this year.”
Cheers broke loose once more. Bahil raised his hands and skillfully calmed the students, then set the porkpie hat from his head down on the table.
“Then shall we call the roll? Since it’s also the first time for you all to meet each other, let’s include a simple introduction one by one when the names are called.”
Bahil called the roll.
“Jamie Victoria.”
“Yes! Professor, I’m so honored! I came to this school following you—!”
Bahil reached out and interrupted Jamie, then winked playfully.
“You’re not introducing yourself to me. You’re introducing yourself to the friends here. Again.”
Small laughter could be heard. Jamie Victoria blushed and said she hoped to get along well for the semester.
After Jamie started off with a smooth start, everyone introduced themselves with the casual feeling of getting along well.
There was nothing to be gained for Simon to stand out in this situation, so he passed it smoothly.
Some students appealed to themselves in preparation for the group class while some gloated about themselves.
“Looks like there are a lot of unique students. Good.”
Bahil, who put down the roll, rolled up his sleeves and walked over to the blackboard.
“Then, let’s start the class.”
* * *
* * *
Tap. Tap tap.
He took the chalk and wrote the three words ‘Studies on Curses’. When he wrote the last word, ‘Curses’, the chalk broke and flew away from the force he applied.
Bahil picked up a new chalk as if used to it.
“Let’s start with the basic question. Why should we learn curses?”
Bahil had the power of pulling the crowd from the first word. All the students craned their necks and focused to not miss a single word from him.
“Can anyone define what a curse is?”
In the seat right in front of Simon, a girl with glasses raised her hand.
“I’m Claudia Menzies, sir! A curse is a dark magic that weakens the opponent while maintaining your own strength!”
“Excellent, Claudia.”
The girl’s face lit up with Bahil’s praise.
“However, there would be some students who wouldn’t really get it by saying it’s simply weakening the other person. Alright. Let’s say there are two knights here at the same skill level.”
Bahil moved the chalk and held it up like a sword.
“The two knights clash their swords and begin to fight fiercely. They consume each other’s stamina, waiting for the other to make mistakes or reveal weak points.”
Bahil wrote Exhaust on the blackboard.
“They exchanged about twenty blows, but they wouldn’t fall down. At that time, the knight facing the other knight screams and looks at the opponent with killing intent. The knight on the other side flinched and has a petrified expression on his face.”
Bahil wrote Pressure on the blackboard.
“Finally, the sword cuts through the opponent’s shoulder. The opponent bleeds and begins to shake his movements. Little by little, he’s seizing the chance of victory!”
Bahil wrote Bleeding on the blackboard.
As the battle between the two knights progressed, more and more words were written on the blackboard.
All those words were a kind of Necromancer’s curse magic.
The students were sweating from their hands as Bahil’s voice reached a climax.
“And finally, the knight cuts off the head of his opponent!”
Bahil lowered his arm, holding the chalk, and there was a moment of silence in the lecture room.
Bahil, who looked around the students without saying a word, smiled and wrote the word ‘Doom’ on the blackboard.
Exclamations broke loose everywhere.
“Do you understand now? Even the most primitive and barbaric battles of human beings, simply clashing with weapons, is the series of steps of weakening the opponent to lead to victory.”
Bahil picked up a new piece of chalk.
“Now, we’ll look at the fight of the modern Necromancer.”
He scribbled a person on a blackboard.
“How will the Necromancer defeat this opponent?”
Bahil drew a circle around all the curse magic words he had written down and then dragged him to the edge of the blackboard to touch the person.
“Necromancer won.”
“Ah……!”
“Curses have a simple and light structure among many dark magics and can be deployed quickly. It’s efficient enough to completely shake up an opponent with a little effort.”
Bahil winked at the male student sitting in the front row. He then swung his arm, completed the exhaustion curse within a matter of seconds, and fired it at him.
“Huff!”
Just like that, the male student sprawled in his seat. He rolled his eyes as if he couldn’t move. Bahil walked slowly towards him.
“This is…”
Then he pulled out the magic sword from the male student’s bag and pretended to hit him on the neck.
“…how the modern necromancer’s fight.”
Woooooooooh!
Thrilled students jumped up from their seats and cheered.
Bahil smiled and bowed his head in response, releasing the curse on the student.
“I don’t know which major you’ll choose, but I boldly expect that at least 80% of freshmen will take my class in the 2nd semester. Curses are a highly compatible study. While taking advantage of your skills, calmly place a curse into your opponent whenever you have a chance. That’ll be the most effective way to secure the victory.”
He walked back to the platform.
“Then let’s talk a little bit about something you guys might find interesting.”
And then, under the ‘Studies on Curses’ written on the blackboard, he began to write new words.
“I personally believe that studies on curses are the core of modern Necromancer. The reason is…”
He wrote ‘priest’ on the blackboard.
“Because it’s the most effective means of dealing with our main enemy.”
From the first class, he touched a sensitive topic. A strong sense of hostility immediately arose in the eyes of the students.
“Then I’ll ask you all. If the Necromancer has a ‘Curse’, the Priest has a ‘Blessing’. The difference between strengthening magic and weakening magic. And right here.”
Bahil chuckled.
“Is there any student who can explain what makes a curse better than a blessing?”
All voices were hushed.
While the students stole glances at one another, one raised a hand.
It was Jamie Victoria, the first one to be called on the roll.
“Jamie Victoria, sir. Curses have a faster casting speed than Blessings! You can stack up debuffs faster, even on the same opponent!”
“Interesting opinion.”
Bahil folded his arms.
“But you’re wrong. In terms of casting speed alone, It’s the general opinion of the scholars that the blessing of a priest is slightly faster than a curse that has to be cast through the opponent’s resistance.”
Jamie bit her lips frustratedly and sat back down.
“Anyone else with a different opinion?”
Then there was a person who raised his arm.
He was a male student with a defined face, thick eyebrows, tall height, and good physique.
“Hector Moore, sir.”
“Please go on.”
“There is almost no one who trains themselves in a weakened state.”
It was an enigmatic answer, but a deep smile crept on Bahil’s lips.
“Mister, what was your name again?”
“It’s Hector Moore.”
“I’ll remember that.”
Woah…
Voices full of envy resounded all around.
There were a thousand freshmen. The chances of surviving increased if you were somehow favored by professor, so it was great merit to have your name remembered.
“Hector is right. It’s because weakening magic can’t be stopped by training.”
He looked at the students.
“Everyone trains on the premise that they’re in a normal condition. The measure of your ability is the level of performance you can pull off when all environments are within your control.”
The students nodded.
“Humans are much more delicate animals than they look, and even the smallest change can break them. Cutting out the arm of the archer who pointed the bow at me isn’t the only answer. Obstructing their vision by eye inflammation, giving him motion sickness, confusing the sense of distance, or distracting him by other means. The arrow that should’ve hit me may miss.”
Bahil raised the corner of his lips.
“Necromancers have a variety of means to lower the enemy’s condition. But think about it. There’s no one who’d train for a curse when they’re tired or have a bad tummy that feels like their intestines are breaking, right? They’d just take a day off.”
Small laughter from the students could be heard.
“So remember. Rather than strengthening ourselves, we need to figure out how to weaken them.”
The students nodded and moved their quills. They started taking notes since it sounded like it would definitely appear on the exam.
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“And now, we’ll have some time to learn a curse.”
Simon, who was jotting down the notes with the others, suddenly raised his head.
‘What? We’re learning dark magic in our first class?’