I Became The Academy Necromancer
Chapter 323: The Calamity Known As Death

“…”

A silence lingered over the meeting hall. The mysterious woman, who had appeared without warning, was now seated on the table, gazing out the window.

She looked vulnerable, as though she could be subdued instantly.

However, everyone had just seen how she had dealt with Coltman, so no one dared to make a move.

A soul who was able to handle magic by herself.

This was something none of the dark mages had ever witnessed, so the leaders’ minds were working at full capacity.

She’s not just a simple necromancer.

Is it really possible for a dead person to wield magic while maintaining their sense of self in their soul form?

Most evil spirits either lose their sense of self or become overly aggressive. But this woman is nothing like that.

Although it had been mentioned numerous times, aside from the Griffin Kingdom, other nations considered Black Magic worth studying academically.

Just the mere presence of the Dark Spiritualist had already opened up a new realm of necromancy studies for them.

To think that Coltman was defeated like this. Hmm, I guess we should consider this a complete defeat in Black Magic.

It’s a shame. If only she had been born in the Han Empire, I would have made proper use of her.

I have researched necromancy thoroughly before coming here. What she’s doing is far beyond the level of our duchy.

A significant difference in skill.

Everyone let out a quiet, disappointed sigh. Why did such a person have to be born in Griffin, where Dark Mages were so heavily persecuted?

If only she were born in another place, her talent would’ve flourished like a vast tree covering the entire continent, rather than twisting and wilting away like this.

Of course, King Orpheus would have probably felt a little unjust if he knew what they were thinking, but for now, the one most at ease in this place was him.

Was she known as the Dark Spiritualist?

Orpheus knew about the Dark Spiritualist. She was the soul of a necromancer who accompanied Deus and the other teacher who had taught Owen Valtany a few things.

He had heard she was friendlier and more gentle than this, but seeing her cold demeanor now, he wondered if he had misunderstood her.

Wink.

The Dark Spiritualist subtly turned her head and winked at Orpheus without anyone else noticing.

The moment Orpheus saw it, he barely restrained a laugh.

It seemed like these dark mages had a knack for acting as well.

[…]

The Dark Spiritualist shifted her gaze back to the window. Deus was already headed toward the palace and numerous soldiers were rushing to stop him.

It was enough to hold on to this much.

With countless souls swirling around in every direction, it was practically a house of ghosts outside.

[They say that people change in the face of death, right?]

Her monologue, which started abruptly, flowed with a leisurely rhythm as if she were reciting poetry.

[I think he wanted to make them feel that way. It’s a good opportunity. Getting close to death while still being alive is a rare experience.]

What did she mean by that?

The leaders couldn’t quite understand what she was saying.

They wondered if it was just the rambling of a dead soul.

However, the Dark Spiritualist slowly stepped outside the window.

And that was the end of it.

The Dark Spiritualist, who was holding the leaders hostage and controlling the space, effortlessly released the grip she had on their necks.

Thinking it might be a trap, no one moved for a moment,, but King Orpheus was the first to rise from his seat.

“Let’s go down and check. It looks like Deus Verdi is ready to show the type of man he is.”

“…The type of man?”

“How intriguing.”

The leaders and their escorts followed Orpheus’ lead.

As the Royal Knight Commander Gloria opened the door, a hot and unpleasant heat spread through the doorway.

They frowned as they stepped into the dark corridor, which was lacking any light.

[Kihihihihihi!]

[They’re out! They’re out! They’re out!]

[Stupid, slow fools!]

Ghosts popped up from the walls, floor, and ceiling, mocking and terrifying them.

This could only mean that the entire Griffin palace had been overtaken by spirits.

Deus Verdi had created this situation in just a few minutes, and the leaders had no choice but to move forward, tense on seeing his ability firsthand.

***

“Gasp! Gasp!”

“…Ugh!”

“Block the entrance! Seal it off!”

Zelkin, a dark mage from the Jerman Kingdom, leaned against his staff.

His body was swaying as though he might collapse at any moment, his vision spinning.

Just as he was about to collapse while vomiting, his dark mage comrade, Hella, caught hold of him.

“Pull yourself together! What do you think will happen if we fall here?”

“C-Coltman… Lord Coltman…”

“He’ll come! He’ll be here soon, so just hold on!”

The dark mages who had come to the Griffin Kingdom were from the Jerman Kingdom and were all disciples of Coltman.

They were too focused on dealing with the spirits wreaking havoc all around them.

The spirits weren’t causing any harm, but even their mere presence spread an eerie wave of energy.

And this energy affected the minds of the living— causing headaches, dizziness, unstable mana, fatigue, and more.

The ghosts drifted about, and their screams and laughter made the living kneel in fear.

Because of this, the soldiers felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

Just their presence alone was enough to push them back.

Even the heavily armored soldiers from the Duchy of Valestan, who had led their country through numerous victories in the recent civil war, weren’t even able to swing the spears they were so proud of before collapsing.

The martial artists from the Han Empire forcefully closed their eyes, sitting cross-legged and focusing their minds, but they could only endure and not do much else.

Fortunately, the Mage Tribunal Judges from the Griffin Kingdom, known for their anti-magic techniques, were able to block the magic thanks to their robes, which were layered with protective magic, allowing them to endure and stand firm.

“Huff.”

They didn’t even spare a glance at the fallen soldiers from other nations.

They simply stood at the entrance, backs straight, waiting for someone.

“Is everyone alright?”

At that very moment, a man ran toward the Jerman Kingdom’s dark mages.

He was Prince Serhul Jerman, the third prince, who had a silent demeanor and handsome appearance.

The main reason the third prince had tagged along instead of the first or second was because of Princess Eleanor.

Unfortunately for her, Serhul Jerman’s feelings were yet to fade.

However, it did help that he was also the most skilled in combat among the princes.

Additionally, he hadn’t been involved in the rebellion of the first and second princes and had instead focused on honing his skills as Jerman’s sword.

“Y-Your Highness! Are you alright?”

“It’s dangerous here!”

Zelkin and Hella shouted at the prince at the same time, but he casually pulled out the necklace hanging around his neck. It was an artifact that blocked all mental-type magic.

“I’ve kept it with me ever since that last incident.”

Not too long ago, all six princes of the Jerman Kingdom had been played by the Demon Lord of Deception, Lehric.

And Serhul didn’t just resolve the issue; he made sure to carry a necklace that blocked mental-type magic on-person, so that nothing like that would ever happen again.

However, spending time like this wasn’t improving the situation in any way.

Ghosts continued to pop out from nowhere, increasing in number, and those who had been holding on finally began to fall, one by one.

Then…

Thump.

Heavy steps that had an immense weight to them rang out.

Like ripples spreading across a lake, his footsteps spread toward the ends of the ground.

Step.

The spirits that had been screaming moments ago shut their mouths the moment they heard his steps.

Just that simple silence made a chilling atmosphere spread heavily across the ground.

A strange coldness stung their noses.

Someone whose mere presence could freeze the screams and suffering that had filled the air moments ago.

Step.

Deus Verdi was walking toward the palace’s exit.

“What in the world…”

“The spirits that were just loud…”

The spirits that had been wailing and scattering waves of energy just moments ago were now following Deus Verdi.

It felt as if the spirits had already paved the way for him.

“Keugh.”

Swallowing his saliva, Third Prince Serhul Jerman placed his hand on the sword at his waist, but he couldn’t bring himself to draw it.

His hand trembled, knowing well that if he drew it now, the vengeful eyes of the dead would be aimed at him.

It was fear.

“Ah.”

By now, Zelkin, his comrade, had already collapsed unconscious on the floor, but Hella’s gaze remained fixed on Deus.

He, too, was a dark mage.

And since Hella was also a necromancer, he couldn’t help but recognize the overwhelming greatness that Deus was exuding.

As someone walking the path of a necromancer, that man could only be described as the pinnacle.

Without any exaggeration, Hella was certain that there was no one who could be a greater necromancer than him.

“He has… reached the peak.”

That was why Hella couldn’t help but lower his head. He felt like if he defied that person, he would vanish like dust.

When the calamity known as death passed by, the living lowered their heads, silently hoping they would not be the ones to face it.

Thud!

As if to reverse the atmosphere, a large man blocked the cold air that had been spreading ominously at that moment.

It was the Mage Tribunal Judge Tyren Ol Velocus.

With the end of his spear-like staff striking the floor, a line of golden-robed Mage Tribunal Judges formed a barrier behind him.

“Deus Verdi.”

There was no conversation between them.

Tyren simply muttered Deus’ name under his breath as he advanced.

Deus Verdi continued walking with the same stride and speed as when he first appeared.

He was simply walking forward.

Tyren suddenly recalled the time when they had tried to execute Deus.

While he would have loved to fight him once more, the current situation didn’t look promising.

Despite that, as the Mage Tribunal Judge, Tyren swung his staff tat Deus to fulfill his duty.

Kwaaaang!

At some point, he found himself lying on the floor.

Once known as the grim reapers of dark mages due to their extreme resistance to magic, the Mage Tribunal Judges were now sprawled across the ground, unconscious.

Yet, Deus Verdi continued.

With the same stride.

With the same speed.

He continued walking toward the outside.

From the moment Deus Verdi escaped from prison, there wasn’t a single instant when his steps were halted or hurried.

The dead followed their saint in silence.

Meanwhile, the living lowered their heads, simply waiting for death to pass.

***

https://ko-fi.com/genesisforsaken