I Became The Academy Necromancer
Chapter 322: The One Known As Calamity

It seemed like a month had gone by.

Surprisingly, the time I had spent in the cell turned out to be really meaningful. Though each day seemed repetitive at a glance, for the first time in a while, I felt like I was truly resting.

I also discovered that I didn’t actually dislike a structured life, nor was I really bothered by the darkness of a place like this.

It only reaffirmed that I hadn’t become a necromancer or gained the ability to see spirits by mere chance.

But now, that time was coming to an end.

[They’ve all gathered upstairs.]

Stella slowly descended from the ceiling. It might have looked somewhat eerie, but I was already accustomed to these women, given that they were spirits.

[World leaders from various countries are gathering to discuss what to do with you— in a way, it’s something to be proud of, isn’t it?]

The Dark Spiritualist, who had been listening to the conversation from the side, clenched both her fists and uttered something weird.

I once heard the saying, “Whatever you do, aim to become big,” and this felt exactly like that.

“You have been spouting nonsense since the last time. Are you doing it on purpose?”

Unable to hold back, I finally asked, prompting the Dark Spiritualist to shake her fists furiously and yell back.

[N-nonsense, you say? I was trying to cheer you up in my own way!]

“It is shocking that you believed that would work.”

[Fine! I won’t bother doing that anymore!]

“Much appreciated.”

[Ugh! You’re so annoying!]

Ending our brief exchange, I turned toward the iron bars.

Leaders from across the nations gathered in the Griffin Kingdom to decide my fate.

However, there was a fair chance that some of them underestimated the gravity of the situation.

While the other countries were not as ignorant about Black Magic as the Griffin Kingdom, they too struggled to comprehend the concept of power capable of annihilating entire continents.

Therefore, this assembly was meant for one purpose: to personally teach them a lesson.

After all, my time as a professor had taught me how to instruct students.

And as the old sages said, experiences taught better than a hundred lectures.

It was time to etch the weight of a necromancer burdened with countless souls into their very being.

“It is time for a grand entrance.”

Perhaps because it was so uncharacteristic of me—Stella and the Dark Spiritualist smiled widely at my remark.

[Not exactly a phrase for a necromancer, but it’s fine every once in a while.]

[No one in Graypond will dare to ignore you anymore.]

“Indeed.”

Satisfied with their response, I began my slow stride toward the prison exit.

Creak!

The iron bars contorted violently, opening a path with just a nudge from my foot.

Feeling as though I was participating in a somewhat ridiculous play, I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“It is time to become a menace to the kingdom.”

For this performance, I would simply be playing the role of a monster stepping out of its cage.

***

“…”

Seated at a large table with the leaders from various nations, King Orpheus wore an expression that was far from pleasant.

King Ramahul from the Jerman Kingdom, which had an uneasy relationship with Griffin, propped his thick chin on his hand. His protruding jowls evoked an image of boundless greed.

“So, what’s the problem here? You’ve already captured him, haven’t you? Just execute him and be done with it.”

Ramahul proposed the most extreme solution in this gathering.

Surprisingly, the other leaders responded to his suggestion with skeptical glances.

Duke Firenche, the second son who brought an end to the civil war in the Duchy of Valestan and assumed leadership, spoke cautiously.

Since his voice held little weight amongst those gathered, he had to choose his words carefully.

“He is the man who has managed to gather all the souls on the continent. Can we simply end this by executing him? It might be like cutting open the goose that lays golden eggs.”

“Golden eggs? What Can he possibly produce?”

King Ramahul retorted sharply, causing Duke Firenche to shut his mouth and avert his gaze.

He might have won the civil war against his brothers, but it didn’t look like he had the resolve to challenge a powerful nation like the Jerman Kingdom.

The civil war in the Duchy of Valestan was like frogs in a well fighting to determine who would be the master of the well.

Yet, it was an elderly man with wrinkles so deep that they were almost unsettling who defended Duke Firenche’s words.

“Immortality.”

His low, resonant voice carried a commanding aura that silenced the room.

The ruler of an empire once known as the strongest nation.

A friend who had shared drinks with War God Han So.

He was the Emperor of the Han Empire, Emperor Xu Hanlie.

“It’s said that when necromancers reach their peak, they can shed their mortal flesh and live anew through a fresh body.”

Emperor Xu Hanlie’s usually calm eyes were now gleaming with a chilling light.

Though the old tiger’s strength had waned, he still knew how to ensure his survival.

“We cannot afford to recklessly execute a man who holds such possibilities.”

Yet even Emperor Xu Hanlie faced opposition.

“But isn’t he too dangerous?”

“Indeed, this is a man with the power to destroy the entire continent.”

“Trying to tame a lion could easily cost us our hand.”

Those who spoke up were leaders of nations that were once subordinate to the Han Empire but now functionally independent.

Kings, dukes, presidents—Those holding various titles simply opposed him, not because they disagreed, but because they did not want to let the power dynamic shift in the way the old tiger of the Han Empire desired.

“Hah! If he destroys the continent, what will remain for him afterward?”

Emperor Xu Hanlie clicked his tongue, casting a scornful glance around the room. His disdain made it clear that he found their logic fundamentally flawed.

“Do you think of him as a god? He’s just a necromancer—a mere human like us.”

“Hah! You certainly don’t hold back. I agree with you. Isn’t it laughable that we’re all gathered here just to discuss a mere necromancer?”

It was clear this discussion was going nowhere, running in parallel lines. And instead of focusing on the larger picture, they kept steering the conversation toward political matters, preventing any constructive dialogue from taking place.

The Han Empire especially did not view Deus Verdi as a dire threat but as a valuable elixir to exploit, while the Jerman Kingdom gave off a strong impression that they had attended only because other nations were gathering.

Only a few leaders truly saw Deus as a significant danger.

“What does King Orpheus think? You’ve seen him up close, haven’t you?”

A gaunt man with glasses and slicked-back hair directed his question to Orpheus.

He was Nicolay Foreman, the acting president of the Clark Republic following the death of President Magan.

And since the Clark Republic was essentially a vassal to Griffin, Nicolay intentionally steered the conversation toward Orpheus.

As all eyes, including those of the leaders and their escorts, turned toward him,

King Orpheus wanted to lash out at those dismissing or scheming to exploit Deus.

But, that’s not what you would want, would it?

Unable to bring himself to ruin Deus’ carefully laid plans, Orpheus was about to utter a false response when—

[Kya-hahahahaha!]

A blood-curdling scream echoed from the outside.

They were on a quite high floor of the palace, high enough to oversee the entire city of Graypond. Hence, hearing a human voice at this height made no sense.

Everyone instinctively turned their heads.

The first to react among them was Coltman, a dark mage serving as King Ramahul’s escort.

Coltman was a dark mage who was quite famous for his virtuous conduct.

“It’s the spirits!”

His shout prompted the other escorts to draw their weapons, ready to protect their leaders.

The number of spirits outside grew steadily, and though it was early evening, the sunset sky began to darken rapidly.

“Gasp!”

Thud!

Coltman slammed his gem-tipped staff against the floor of the meeting hall, sending a wave of mana rippling through the ground and walls, repelling the encroaching spirits.

[Wahaha!]

[What is this?!]

Seeing the spirits’ immediate reaction, the attendees relaxed. They were confident that the barrier erected by Coltman would hold.

“I’m not a necromancer, so I can’t keep this up forever.”

Though his face showed some signs of concern, his tone remained calm. He was assured that none of these spirits would be able to harm him or King Ramahul.

“Hmm, immortality…”

Resting his chin on his hand, King Ramahul began to ponder as he observed the spirits.

He was intrigued by Emperor Xu Hanlie’s earlier suggestion, thinking it might be plausible.

“Seeing how he handles souls like this, it doesn’t seem entirely impossible.”

[Impossible.]

It didn’t sound like the voice of a living person. Yet, it was an enchanting tone that made the heart race.

Standing at the entrance to the chamber was a woman cloaked in a black robe.

A semi-transparent light purple veil covered her face below her eyes, and her body radiated an icy chill.

It was a spirit.

Everyone couldn’t help but have the same thought the moment they saw her. Such was the ominous aura surrounding her.

And…

She bypassed my magic?

The fact that she had broken through Coltman’s barrier instantly made the atmosphere grow heavier.

“Impossible?”

“Hmm.”

Intrigued by the unidentified woman’s sudden appearance, both King Ramahul and Emperor Xu Hanlie spoke simultaneously. But instead of fear, they seemed to glimpse greater possibilities.

“Why do you say it’s impossible? Aren’t you acting as though you’re alive right now?”

“Yes, I’m also curious.”

In response to their questions, the Dark Spiritualist began to slowly make her way forward.

The escorts tensed and flinched with nervousness, but not once did her gaze turn in their direction.

[Because he won’t just sit back and watch.]

“He?”

“You’re talking about Deus Verdi, aren’t you?”

The quick-witted Emperor Xu Hanlie quickly deduced the subject, but the Dark Spiritualist did not respond.

She surveyed them in complete silence, pondering over the reason she had come.

[Now, watch carefully. See how today will end. Witness the weight the steps of the continent’s greatest necromancer carries.]

A faint smile appeared on her face.

And for some, it was a smile that sent chills down their spines.

[The true intentions of the being destined to be called a calamity in human form.]

Her gaze landed on the scene outside the window.

It was the pillar of souls rising from the palace.

It looked like a dam had burst as countless souls poured out and started to cover the sky of Graypond.

Watching her from behind as she gazed outside the window, Coltman slowly raised his staff.

I’ve been too careless.

Even though she was already dead, she was still a dark mage. In fact, it would be safe to say that they were natural enemies.

Coltman exchanged glances with the other escorts and they moved in unison.

The magic emanating from the tip of his staff shot toward the Dark Spiritualist.

Pachiing!

As soon as he saw the protective magic enveloping her, Coltman’s eyes widened.

No matter how much mana he poured into it,

No matter how desperately he struggled until he coughed up blood,

He failed to break through it.

Never.

With that certainty in mind, his magic repelled by her protective shield slammed back into him, sending his body flying upward before crashing into the ceiling and falling to the ground unconscious.

The others also met the same fate.

[I won’t kill you.]

The Dark Spiritualist’s voice remained calm.

[Because he won’t like that.]

She said without even sparing them a glance.

[Isn’t it merciful?]

There was a faint hint of laughter in her voice.

***

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