Necromancy 101

After the Paired Evaluation wrapped up, the Academy returned to its usual rhythm. Classes resumed, though the hum of anticipation for mid-terms lingered in the air. Mid-terms would mark the official close of our first semester at Mythos Academy, and by that point, I realized, it would have been three and a half months since I arrived in this world.

Time was moving fast, and I wasn't sure if I was catching up or falling behind.

During one of our theory classes, Professor Nero deviated from the standard curriculum, which was saying something, considering he was already a man prone to detours. He leaned against his desk, arms crossed, and surveyed us with the kind of look that promised to either enlighten or confuse everyone in the room.

"How developed do you think the current human power system is?" Nero asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

A few students exchanged uncertain glances. Rachel, ever the proactive one, raised her hand. "What do you mean, Professor?"

"Exactly what I said," he replied, his voice warm yet laced with an undercurrent of challenge. "Our power system—how far has it been developed? How complete do you think it is? Or, better yet, how incomplete?"

A few murmurs rippled through the class. It wasn't often Nero asked open-ended questions like this, and when he did, you could bet he had a point to make.

"Let's start with what we know," Nero continued, his tone shifting to lecture mode. "Human power is divided into three aspects: Body, Mind, and Soul. Each plays a vital role in growth and strength. The Body aspect governs martial prowess—physical abilities, aura, techniques. The Mind aspect oversees spellcasting, magic circles, mana control. And then," he paused for effect, "we have the Soul aspect."

His gaze swept the room, daring someone to interject. No one did.

"The Soul aspect is… underwhelmingly understood, to put it politely," he said, smiling faintly. "It's a vital part of the power system, yet it remains the most underdeveloped. Unlike the Body and Mind aspects, which have been refined over millennia, Soul remains largely uncharted territory."

He gestured toward the screen behind him, which displayed a simplified diagram of the three aspects. "Let me put it this way: how many of you have ever heard of a Soul aspect Gift?"

The room was silent. Not a single hand was raised.

"Exactly," Nero said, his tone shifting to one of deliberate gravity. "No Soul aspect Gift has ever been discovered among humans. Not one."

The weight of his words settled over us like a heavy blanket. It wasn't just that the Soul aspect was underdeveloped—it was that no one even knew where to begin with it.

Nero began pacing, his hands clasped behind his back. "Let's take necromancy, for example," he said. "It's the closest humanity has come to harnessing the Soul aspect. Necromancers manipulate souls, yes, but how do they do it?"

"Through the Mind aspect," Jin answered.

"Exactly!" Nero said, spinning on his heel. "Even necromancy—the art of controlling souls—is fundamentally a Mind aspect discipline. The most powerful necromancy Gift, Necromancer's Touch, doesn't utilize the Soul aspect directly. It operates through the circle method, which is tied to the Mind."

Rachel raised her hand again, her brow furrowed in thought. "But why? If the Soul aspect is so vital, why haven't we developed it further?"

Nero's smile was faint, almost rueful. "That, Miss Creighton, is the golden question. The Soul aspect is vital, yes, but it's also… elusive. We know it exists. We know it plays a role in Radiant-rank metamorphosis, where the soul undergoes a profound change, enabling individuals to manipulate the space-time axis with mere presence. But beyond that?" He spread his hands in a shrug. "Nothing. We're flying blind."

"The Soul aspect is a gaping hole in our understanding of power," Nero said, his voice steady but firm. "It's the missing puzzle piece, the part of ourselves we've yet to fully grasp. And until we do, humanity will remain incomplete."

He let the words hang in the air for a moment before turning back to the class. "Now," he said, his tone lightening just a fraction, "who wants to take a wild guess at how we might bridge that gap?"

No one answered.

I leaned back in my seat, my mind whirring. If the Soul aspect was truly that underdeveloped, then humanity's current system wasn't just incomplete—it was vulnerable. There were entire avenues of power waiting to be explored, waiting to be weaponized. And if someone else got there first…

I shook the thought away. It was too big, too overwhelming. But I couldn't help but wonder: if the Soul aspect was the key to the next stage of evolution, what would it take to unlock it? And would I be ready when that time came?

Other than the usual classes, my overall workload had somehow increased. Aura Mechanics, Spellcasting III, and now specializations in both light and dark magic, each treated as entirely unique disciplines. These weren't casual electives either—they were rigorous, highly focused courses designed to push us past the limits of our understanding. 

For light magic, I was paired with Rachel, a combination that, at the very least, was easy to work with. Rachel's affinity for light magic was obvious—she practically radiated the element. Watching her work with it was like watching someone breathe. Natural. Effortless.

Dark magic, however, was a different story. That class was just me and Jin. And while Rachel was like sunlight incarnate, Jin carried the aura of someone born to navigate the shadows. He didn't just use dark magic—he wielded it, like it was a blade forged in the recesses of his mind. 

The dynamic between us was quiet but oddly effective. Jin was focused on his work, a figure of silent precision, while I tried not to look like a complete amateur in a subject that wasn't exactly intuitive.

Necromancy. The word alone carried a weight, conjuring images of rotting skeletons clawing their way out of graves. But the reality was... different. In the Western continent, the hub of necromancy, the practice had evolved far beyond the crude depictions of horror stories. It wasn't about cobbling together random corpses from battlefields or graveyards anymore. No, the modern necromancer didn't work with scraps.

Instead, they bought professionally prepared corpses—cleaned, programmed, and reinforced to serve specific purposes. It was a billion-credit industry that combined biotechnology with mana refinement. These corpses were tailored, optimized for functionality, and, honestly, felt closer to autonomous machines than anything else. Expensive, sure, but leagues more efficient than the grim improvisation necromancy had once been.

The professor, a stoic man with an unshakable demeanor, turned his attention to me after giving Jin a separate assignment. Jin, without a word, moved to the far side of the room, his short swords glinting faintly as he began experimenting with a particularly complex necromantic formation. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy at how effortlessly he carried himself in this field.

"Arthur," the professor said, his sharp eyes locking onto me. "It honestly won't be possible for you to become a master of dark magic. Not without years of exclusive dedication."

Well, that was blunt. 

"But," he continued, his tone softening just slightly, "you don't need to. Your approach should be different. Dark magic doesn't need to be your foundation. It can be a complementary force—a secondary weapon in your arsenal. And with your talent for spell weaving, it can be used to devastating effect when paired with other elements."

I nodded, processing his words. He wasn't wrong. The versatility of Lucent Harmony gave me an edge, but it also meant I couldn't specialize in everything. Dark magic would have to play a supporting role in my overall strategy.

"What you should focus on," he said, "is summoning."

"Summoning?" I repeated, tilting my head slightly.

"Yes. A necromantic summon is a cornerstone of dark magic. For someone with your affinities and potential, a single, powerful summon could serve as an extension of your abilities. But that depends entirely on your talent for it."

"Should I test that now?" I asked, trying not to sound too eager.

The professor nodded. "We'll start with a basic summoning matrix. Focus on drawing the mana threads precisely. Summoning is as much about control as it is about power."

He gestured toward an empty corner of the room, where a sleek, circular platform embedded with faintly glowing runes awaited. "Stand there. Use the dark mana I've supplied to form the core. The rest is up to you."

I stepped onto the platform, feeling the hum of latent mana beneath my feet. The instructions were simple enough—channel the provided mana through the runes, shape it into a structure, and see what emerged. Easy, in theory. In practice? Summoning was notoriously difficult, requiring not just skill but a deep connection to the magic being used.

I exhaled slowly, letting my senses expand. The dark mana around me was dense, heavy, like trying to weave threads of shadow into a cohesive form. I began tracing the pattern of the matrix with my will, coaxing the energy into a shape that felt… right.

The platform began to pulse, the runes glowing brighter as the mana took form. Slowly, a figure materialized—a hulking, wolf-like creature with gleaming obsidian fur and eyes that burned like dying embers. Its presence was raw, primal, and undeniably powerful.

The professor stepped closer, his expression unreadable. "Interesting. For a first attempt, that's... remarkable."

The wolf growled low, the sound reverberating through the room like distant thunder. I could feel its energy tethered to mine, a link forged through the summoning process. It wasn't perfect, but it was there—a connection that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

"You have a natural talent for summoning," the professor said, his tone matter-of-fact. "This creature is a reflection of your will. Its strength comes from you. But remember, one strong summon is better than ten weak ones."

I stepped off the platform, the wolf fading back as the summoning ended. My mind buzzed with possibilities. A single, powerful summon—something that could fight alongside me, complementing my abilities and covering my weaknesses. It was an intriguing thought.

As I walked back to my seat, Jin glanced up from his work, his expression unreadable. He said nothing, but I could feel the weight of his gaze. Whether it was approval, curiosity, or something else entirely, I couldn't tell.