After the first period ended, the next class began. Today, Class A had four two-hour classes scheduled. The second was Necrology.
"WITH SPIRIT!" a booming voice echoed through the classroom. "LET’S GET FIRED UP AND START TODAY’S CLASS WITH SPIRIT!"
The man shouting at the top of his lungs was Professor Umbra Warframe. His most peculiar trait was that his body was blurry, almost translucent. In fact, his legs had faded away entirely, leaving him floating in mid-air like a ghost. Apparently, he had become so engrossed in Spirit Form magic that he frequently crossed the boundary between the physical and spiritual realms, resulting in his current state. He also wore a shockingly lifelike wolf mask. It was so realistic that rumors circulated among the students that it was his real face, or that Umbra was a werewolf half-breed.
Umbra taught Necrology, the study of spiritual entities called ‘spirits’. Everyone had expected a delicate and quiet class. They were completely mistaken.
"YOU LACK GUTS! YOUR MINDS ARE ROTTEN!" he bellowed. "WHY ARE YOU ALL ALREADY CONVINCED YOU CAN’T DO IT?! NOW! RAISE YOUR ARMS!"
Umbra was a hot-blooded professor. Despite his flimsy, ghostly body, he was overflowing with energy. More than once, Simon’s concentration was shattered by Umbra’s explosive voice just as he was on the verge of sensing a spirit.
Once, a student had asked, "Professor! I can’t sense any spirits, no matter how hard I try. What should I do?"
Umbra had replied, "SENSE IT! DON’T THINK YOU CAN’T, JUST SENSE IT! FEEL IT, NO MATTER WHAT! YOU STILL LACK EFFORT! USE ALL YOUR STRENGTH AND HEART! POUR YOUR ENERGY INTO IT!"
...It wasn’t particularly helpful advice. But Umbra wasn’t entirely wrong. Sensing spirits wasn’t something that could be solved with strength or knowledge. ‘Spiritual sensitivity’ varied from person to person, and whether one could sense a spirit with little sensitivity was a matter of individual constitution. And Simon, who never seemed to lack talent in anything, was drawing a complete blank.
’...Why can’t I feel anything?’ He was hopeless when it came to Necrology.
Simon was gathered around a round table with other students, diligently moving the planchette on an occult tool called an ‘Ouija board’.
"It’s my turn to chant, right?" Jamie Victoria, the honorary class president and a top student in all subjects, asked in a listless voice. Even she couldn’t sense a spirit yet.
The foundation of Necrology was the ‘spirit’. Without sensing it, no other lesson mattered. So, Umbra had divided the class into two teams. The first was the ‘education team’, which followed his lessons and learned to handle spirits. The second was the ‘preparation team’. Since they couldn’t sense spirits yet, they spent the entire class performing rituals to try and connect with them. They would turn the Ouija board, perform bizarre dances with occult tools, or meditate inside a coffin like a corpse—getting scolded if they fell asleep.
"NO GUTS!" Umbra would occasionally leave the education team to practice on their own and come to check on the preparation team. "PUT MORE SPIRIT INTO IT!"
Five students had their hands on the planchette when Umbra grabbed it with his own large hand. "GRIP IT TIGHTER! LIKE THIS! TURN IT WITH ALL YOUR STRENGTH AND DEVOTION!"
"Yes, sir!" they yelped. He was so strong that his one hand easily overpowered all five of them.
"YOUR VOICES ARE TOO QUIET!"
"YES, SIR!"
Jamie Victoria squeezed her eyes shut and began to loudly chant the summoning spell. Umbra nodded in satisfaction before his gaze shifted. "HEY, YOU! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!"
His attention now fell on Kamibarez, who was drenched in sweat as she awkwardly performed the ritual dance.
"I-I’m sorry, Professor!" she stammered.
"LIFT YOUR LEGS HIGHER! UP, UP! THAT’S RIGHT! SUMMONING A SPIRIT IS NO JOKE! MAKE YOUR MOVEMENTS BIGGER!"
"YEEES!" she cried, small tears welling in her eyes as she performed the bizarre dance, lifting her knees high. Her whole body was soaked in sweat. Honestly, it wasn’t a dance a girl should be doing. She was shaking her head wildly, her shoulders swaying, her arms twisted like cobras and flailing about. It was impossible to tell how that was supposed to summon a spirit. The students had already nicknamed it the ‘chicken feed dance’ and the ‘squid mating dance’.
’Poor Kami...’ Simon thought, watching her with a pitiful expression.
"ALRIGHT! TAs! TIME TO SWITCH!" Umbra roared.
"Yes, sir!"
The TAs approached Simon’s group. "Leave everything as it is and stand up. It’s time for the ritual dance."
His turn had finally come. Simon sighed internally and took his place on the sheet-covered area at the back of the classroom where Kamibarez had just been. There was even a formation for it; students had to stand facing each other with some distance between them. And of all people, Jamie Victoria was standing directly in front of him.
"I trust you’ve all memorized the dance," a TA announced. "We will begin."
The TAs began to play bizarre, skull-adorned instruments. A strange, reedy flute sound filled the air.
’Just empty your mind,’ Simon told himself. It wasn’t a dance one could perform with a clear mind.
He emptied his thoughts and moved his body as he had learned. A leg went forward, a knee came up to his chest. He waved his limbs fluidly, his upper body lunging forward as his whole frame writhed like an invertebrate. Students who saw Simon’s passionate performance let out small laughs.
’What’s with him... He’s even taking this seriously.’
’He’s good at everything physical, I guess.’
Simon, without a single thought, danced with his body and mind as one, practically reaching a state of complete immersion. Umbra saw this and laughed heartily.
"VERY GOOD! EXCELLENT! EVEN IF YOU CAN’T SENSE A SPIRIT, THAT KIND OF DETERMINATION IS WHAT MATTERS!"
Umbra decided then and there to take Simon to the 50th-anniversary event of Goliath’s death that weekend and have him work part-time as a spirit dancer. His dancing was phenomenal.
’I think he’s complimenting me, but I don’t feel happy at all,’ Simon thought. He danced diligently, then peeked his eyes open. Jamie was awkwardly performing the chicken feed dance. The moment their eyes met, her face flushed red with embarrassment.
"P-Please don’t look this way..." she pleaded.
At her plea, Simon quickly turned his head. The students weren’t happy about this, but they didn’t dare protest to Umbra, instead voicing their complaints to the TAs. The TAs’ response was always some variation of, ‘If you don’t like it, then get good enough for the education team.’
In truth, the preparation team students had nothing to say; they were there because of their own lack of skill. And the most surprising thing was that, in every class, one or two students would actually sense a spirit while doing the dance or turning the Ouija board and would shoot their hands up in triumph.
"Congratulations. You’ll be moving to the education team."
The students who finally escaped this hell of embarrassment cheered as if they had conquered the world. A rumor was now going around that the rituals weren’t actually effective; rather, students were so desperate to avoid dying of shame that they tried with all their might and eventually managed to sense a spirit. reewebnovel.com
And so, the arduous Necrology class finally came to an end.
After completing the preparation team’s full course, Simon walked down the hallway, his limbs feeling like jelly.
"Hey, are you really okay?" Meirin asked, surprised.
Simon raised a limp arm to gesture that he was fine. "What did you guys in the education team learn?"
"Offensive magic, of course," Dick said, walking on his left with his hands behind his head. It was hard to believe, but Dick had also succeeded in sensing a spirit in the very first class. "Because of the Duel Evaluation, all the professors are focusing on practical offensive magic instead of theory. It’s probably the same for the other classes."
"Hmm, what’s next?" Simon asked.
Dick grinned. "Hemomancy."
The very class that had been continuously postponed due to Professor Silage’s mission schedule and personal circumstances. For Class A, today was the first session.
Hemomancy class was held in a building called the ‘Magic Bullet Firing Range’. The professor was the famous Silage Visabar, the same middle-aged professor who had brought Simon to Kizen on the Netherwhale. His face was still pale like a patient battling an illness, his cheeks sunken.
He now had more white hair than black, and his hands had a yellowish tint. Simon thought his condition had worsened since they first met.
"Hemomancy is a black magic that uses blood as a medium," Silage began, his voice raspy.
Simon and six other students stood at the firing line. Two hundred meters in front of them were rows of targets.
"It is known to the public as a discipline that merely reproduces the secret techniques of vampires or blood wolves, but... ‘ahem’... that is not true. As the caster’s own blood is the most compatible substance with Jet-Black, it boasts a long and storied history."
The students on the firing line prepared to shoot, while the rest sat and listened to Silage’s explanation.
"Jet-Black and the blood of its user are compatible in one way or another. A necromancer can ‘artificially’ mix Jet-Black and blood to cause various magical reactions." Silage spread his hands. In one palm hovered a droplet of pure Jet-Black, while from the other, blood welled up. When the two met in the air, they reacted violently, fizzing and popping with incredible speed. The students gasped in awe.
"Putting aside the fact that I am a Hemomancy professor, I can emphatically state that a necromancer not using their own blood is a waste of their potential. Although it has the disadvantage of consuming the caster’s stamina, Hemomancy can be the fastest and most powerful weapon in a necromancer’s arsenal."
Following a TA’s instructions, the students on the line curled their hands into fists, extending only their right index fingers toward the targets. They all had an IV-like device attached to their arms. When the TAs activated the devices, a magic circle unfolded in front of each student’s finger, which then turned red with blood. This was the ‘Blood Bullet’, the fundamental skill of Hemomancy. The device was, simply put, the Hemomancy version of a magic circle corrector.
"Ahem. Class A is quite behind, as this is your first session," Silage said, his voice strained. "Today, we will determine the properties of your blood, learn how those properties can help you, and finally, practice using the Blood Bullet in a practical scenario."
’I know we’re behind, but how many things are we doing at once?’ Simon wondered, his eyes fixed on the targets 200 meters away. It wasn’t just a single target; ten of them were lined up one after another.

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