The Scourge 08

On the other side of the city, within the royal capital, two young nobles—now changed into casual attire—walked shoulder to shoulder, their arms draped over each other.

"We've found out where that guy lives."

"Where?"

"The slums."

"Ugh, do we really have to go to such a filthy, stinking place?"

"By the way, why isn’t Rhein handling this himself?"

"He said Princess Vivian has been keeping her distance from him lately. Maybe she doesn’t like him picking fights."

"Tch, that guy. But once he marries the princess, our families might climb a little higher in status, right?"

"Just wait. I’ll gather some men, and we’ll go teach that kid a lesson."

The two summoned a few lackeys and, fueled by alcohol, headed toward the city outskirts. The path from the royal capital to the slums passed through a secluded stretch, rumored to be a hotspot for robberies by the lowborn. But as students of the magic academy, accompanied by their entourage, they had nothing to fear.

Halfway through their journey, they were indeed stopped—but not by mere thieves.

"Heh, this should be fun." To them, killing a few commoners—especially slum-dwelling bandits—was no big deal.

Yet, under the flickering torchlight, the figures blocking their path revealed their true forms: reeking, gray-skinned zombies, some with rotting flesh exposing their ghastly white teeth.

"What the—"

"I’ve been following you for a while, curious how many you’d bring. And this is it?" Fang Zhiyi emerged from the shadows.

"You!" The two men sobered instantly. As magic academy students, they’d attended the mandatory class on magical history—where the legends of necromancers stood out most vividly.

Without another word, Fang Zhiyi let the zombies clumsily close in.

Later, crouched in the graveyard, Fang Zhiyi studied the three fresh corpses before him, a small pouch of scavenged gold coins in hand. Skeletons carried the bodies onto a ritual-drawn circle, followed by a lengthy incantation.

The young men’s corpses gradually withered, their skin turning ashen and brittle, their blood seemingly absorbed by the earth. Then—a twitch of fingers. Crimson eyes snapped open.

Fang Zhiyi raised a hand, sensing the energy. After a moment, he smirked.

"Perfect. Fresh corpses are far more suitable." He eyed the three newly risen ghouls. "You got what you deserved."

When the weekend ended, news of three missing students spread through the academy. Teachers hurried about, and rumors swirled that the Mage Association had dispatched several archmages to investigate.

Fang Zhiyi collected his monthly stipend, informed Ross he’d be skipping class, and slipped away unnoticed.

No one cared about his attendance. To the faculty, his presence or absence made no difference—except for Vivian, who watched with knowing calm. She hadn’t revealed Fang Zhiyi’s secrets to her mentor, having endured betrayal herself. Still, she kept tabs on him, certain he was off practicing necromancy.

In the slums, Lily’s father studied the changed young man before him—and the gold in his hand—before firmly refusing.

"We belong here. I know about the orc threat, and though I was once a deserter, I’ll stand for the kingdom when it calls." The man’s weathered face held unshakable resolve. Fang Zhiyi sighed.

"Brother Zhiyi! Mom’s making stew today—you have to stay!" Lily beamed, unable to hide her joy.

Fang Zhiyi patted her head, already revising his plans.

"You’re still too thin. Mages ought to train more," Lily’s father remarked, eyeing him critically. Fang Zhiyi nodded. "Noted."

"Don’t listen to him—he doesn’t know a thing," Lily’s mother interjected, carrying a dish. "Sit down and rest awhile."

Watching the family, Fang Zhiyi felt his resolve waver.

After dinner, he bid them farewell—but left the gold hidden in a hat by their door. It was one of the few things he could do for the original owner of this body.

At the crossroads, Fang Zhiyi paused, glancing toward the distant forest.

Almost time.

Back at the academy, he was met by a familiar face: Rhein, with Princess Vivian at his side.

Fang Zhiyi smirked. Rhein’s expression darkened as he stormed forward. "Did you have something to do with my friends’ disappearance?"

Vivian followed, her gaze flickering with calculation.

"What are you talking about? Who are your friends?" Fang Zhiyi feigned innocence. "Are you still unwell? Maybe you should go home."

Rhein’s eyes bulged. "Rhein, that’s no way to speak to him," Vivian chided.

Clenching his jaw, Rhein suddenly lunged. Towering half a head taller, he loomed over Fang Zhiyi.

"You—"

"Whoa! Rhein, personal space! I’m not into men!" Fang Zhiyi backpedaled, clutching his chest like a scandalized maiden.

Students milling about during break turned at the commotion. Scandal, it seemed, was universally entertaining.

Rhein’s face flushed crimson. "Fang Zhiyi! I challenge you to a duel!"

Fang Zhiyi rolled his eyes. Destiny really loves its clichés.

"Pass." He shrugged.

Rhein seethed. "You worthless trash! I can’t imagine what kind of gutter spawned you!"

Ah, the classic parental insult. Fang Zhiyi’s smile vanished. Vivian mused silently, plotting how to gracefully intervene.

"What’s that look? Mourning your pathetic parents?" Rhein sneered.

Fang Zhiyi spread his hands. "I’m just wondering—did nature give you a head purely for height?"

Rhein blinked, uncomprehending, as laughter rippled around them. Something felt off.

Shaking his head, Fang Zhiyi lamented the world’s lack of creative insults. Well, if they’re asking for it…

He planted his hands on his hips. Rhein, finally processing the jab, jabbed a finger at him. "You stupid, good-for-noth—"

"Nothing? You dare judge me? Did your brain cells file for divorce? Shake that skull of yours before speaking! Spouting nonsense about family—did you mistake mouthwash for sewage? Barking like a rabid mutt, yet somehow passing for human. Impressive, really."

Rhein was stunned, and so were the people around. Vivian snapped back to reality—since when was Fang Zhiyi so vicious with his insults?