Scourge of the Undead 06

He sensed something was wrong—the magic power within him was draining away! Without the enhancement of magic, that punch he threw earlier was just an ordinary fist.

"As a magic swordsman, you're truly foolish," Fang Zhiyi muttered with a hint of mockery as the dust kicked up gradually settled.

Rhein was stunned. Did this guy do something?

Slap.

The teacher and classmates froze. So did Rhein.

Ross instinctively covered his face. "This is the first time I've seen someone slap their opponent in a magic duel."

The others nearby nodded in agreement.

Rhein's face flushed red—whether from anger or humiliation, he didn’t know. He, of all people, had been slapped by this worthless fool! An absolute disgrace!

But Fang Zhiyi didn’t give him a chance to retaliate with words. The moment Rhein opened his mouth—Slap! Another strike, this time infused with magic! The force sent Rhein flying backward, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Vivian was both puzzled and pleasantly surprised. She had paid little attention to this necromancer before, but now it seemed he had some skill even without relying on undead magic.

"You—you cheated!" Rhein snapped back to his senses, clutching his face as he shouted.

Fang Zhiyi shrugged and shook his head. "If you lose, just admit it. Whining after defeat is just pathetic."

Rhein’s rage surged, and he suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood.

The teacher quickly ended the match, frowning as he hauled Rhein up. He shot Fang Zhiyi a glance before dismissing the class, taking Rhein away for treatment.

Fang Zhiyi scratched his head. Had he gone too far? Mana Drain was just a low-tier necromancy spell, but it didn’t carry dark magic energy—its conditions were strict, requiring physical contact.

For the next few days, Fang Zhiyi maintained his routine—sleeping in the graveyard at night, attending classes by day—while also dealing with Vivian and Ross. Rhein had complained to the academy, accusing Fang Zhiyi of foul play, but thanks to Vivian’s intervention, the academy only sent two high-ranking mages for a brief inquiry. They found nothing amiss and merely gave Fang Zhiyi a verbal warning.

The investigators grew impatient with Rhein’s accusations. To them, it seemed like the hotheaded fool had simply mismanaged his magic and exhausted himself. After all, they couldn’t believe a bottom-tier student could achieve such an effect.

Still, Fang Zhiyi had gained some notoriety. His nickname shifted from "that waste" to "the guy who slaps people in duels."

At night, even Xiao Hei gulped (despite lacking saliva) at the sight of the terrifying humanoid creature before them.

"Host, what the hell is this thing?" It had watched Fang Zhiyi tinker with skeletons and zombies nightly, but this was new.

"A ghoul," Fang Zhiyi replied weakly, raising his notebook. "A high-tier undead spell, but the conditions are harsh—it requires a mage’s corpse."

"I don’t get it, Host. Why not just leave that school? There’s nothing there for you to learn."

Fang Zhiyi stood, dusting himself off. "No, no, there’s plenty to learn. Those spells are fascinating. Even if I can’t cast them, observing is worthwhile. Plus… I need to eat. I don’t want to be the first necromancer to starve to death." The magic academy provided lodging, meals, and a stipend—excellent benefits.

Satisfied, he watched as the ghoul obeyed his command and lumbered into the forest.

"Professor Li Mei, that waste—er, that kid—does have some talent. He’s adept at manipulating his meager magic reserves, showing remarkable control," one teacher remarked in the faculty office. Li Mei, the woman addressed, had taught Fang Zhiyi’s offensive magic class.

"Pity about his limitations. No matter how skillfully he wields that pitiful magic, his innate conditions doom his future," the defense magic professor added, adjusting his glasses with genuine regret.

A low voice from the corner spoke up. "How’s Rhein doing?"

Li Mei answered, "He overexerted himself, wasted too much magic, and got caught off guard by Fang Zhiyi’s attack. He’ll need a few days to recover. Mage Clay said he suffered backlash, but it shouldn’t be serious."

"Whatever. He’s just a transfer from the knights’ order," another mage scoffed, disdainful of both weaklings and those who relied on brute force to channel magic.

"As I said, talent alone can’t change his fate."

"Still, if Rhein had his sword that day, only that kid would’ve been on the ground."

A curly-haired mage sneered. "Control? What kind of mage obsesses over manipulating their pathetic internal magic instead of studying real spells? Pathetic. He’ll be stuck as an apprentice forever."

"Though I wonder if Rhein’s father will take action," another teacher mused. "Isn’t he the captain of the royal knights?"

Li Mei, however, was lost in thought. Her instincts told her something was off, but the association’s investigation had cleared Fang Zhiyi. Was it really just an accident? Then again, Rhein wasn’t the brightest.

Fang Zhiyi was struggling too. He’d learned plenty of useful tricks, but no matter how he disguised his spells, the taint of necromancy seeped through. For instance, when he cast a fireball using fire magic principles, the flames emerged black—unable to ignite anything.

"Stupid auto-conversion," he grumbled before turning his attention to his upcoming stipend.

Five gold coins a month. Combined with the savings left by his predecessor, he now had twenty—a fortune for someone from the slums. Enough to move Lily’s family north, away from that wretched place.

But trouble came knocking first.

Ross barged in, face bruised and swollen. Fang Zhiyi frowned. "Who’d you pick a fight with?"

Ross waved a hand. "Not a fight—I got jumped."

Fang Zhiyi sighed.

"Some senior mages cornered me, demanding I lure you into the academy’s Black Forest. I refused, so they beat me up."

Fang Zhiyi eyed him in surprise. He hadn’t expected this chubby kid to be so loyal. "I thought mages considered brawling beneath them?"

"They—no, we—aren’t even apprentices yet. We can’t call ourselves mages," Ross said, eyes glimmering with hope. "After three years of study, we can choose a mentor and become apprentices. Then, someday, real mages."

The poor fool had no idea the orcs would never let that moment come. Fang Zhiyi looked at the bruises on his face and stood up. "Where are they?"

"Who?"

"The ones who beat you."