Descent Dark Javelin, Abyss Hand, Abyss Flame.
Cheon Ji-hoo found it all utterly ridiculous. Descent Dark Javelin, Abyss Hand, Abyss Flame—just a bunch of lame tricks with pretentious names. Slapping on a scary title didn't make the magic any stronger. He wasn't even sure if they qualified as magic in the first place.
The man called X had boasted about his "magic" with such confidence that Cheon Ji-hoo decided to take a look. But all that came out were the most pathetic excuses for spells.
"X! X! Let's run!"
"Wait, W! We just need to hold out until the descent finishes."
"You crazy bastard!"
The girl called W looked like she wanted to bolt right then and there, but the man named X wouldn't budge. Stubborn as a mule—the type who probably didn't get much attention from women.
Cheon Ji-hoo decided it was time to change this dreary space.
"Watch closely. This is magic."
He raised a finger and twirled it in a circle. Mana traced a bluish ring, spinning fiercely. The rotating circle began scattering mana in all directions, as if intent on purifying the entire space.
"Dark Javelin! Dark Javelin!"
That damn Dark Javelin. Like swatting away buzzing flies, he kept the circle at his fingertip and twirled his finger once more. An even more intense surge of mana erupted from the ring, shoving aside not just the black spears but the very fabric of the space itself—using nothing but pure mana.
As the darkness blanketing the classroom was pushed back by his mana, sunlight finally streamed in through the windows. Now Cheon Ji-hoo could see the two standing before him more clearly. The first thing that caught his eye was their shabby robes, a hallmark of DF scum. W was just as he'd imagined: a young girl with long, flowing red hair.
X was a mummy of a man, his hair patchy and sparse, his eyes sunken, his body gaunt and frail. It was a wonder how someone so weak had even made it here. The guards should've been airtight during the tournament.
Well, there are plenty of ways in, I suppose.
The most likely was sneaking in after silently killing the guards and plotting from there. No point dwelling on it—it would just be a hassle. Best to drop it.
Cheon Ji-hoo sized them up and let out a long breath.
"Subpar. No need to think twice. Got anything else?"
At his words, X groaned and furrowed his brow. W blurted out, "See? I told you, you crazy bastard, let's just bail!" before unleashing a barrage of magic at Cheon Ji-hoo.
"Rise! Rise! All of you, rise!"
"Aura of Death! Plague Ground!"
At W's shout, a dozen skeletal soldiers, ghouls, and the like—miscellaneous undead—rose from the floor. A Death Knight and a Banshee were mixed in for good measure. Then X buffed the undead, creating a decent linked force.
Decent, that is, by the standards of novice necromancers. To Cheon Ji-hoo, they were trash.
"Holy Mine."
Boom.
The undead clustered together, and when the Holy Mine detonated in their midst, those unprepared for holy magic exploded and vanished in a burst of sacred light.
Then a shout came from the opposite side.
"Hahaha! The undead we create revive even after death! We'll drain your mana dry until... until...?"
X trailed off, sensing something off. The undead should've revived mid-sentence, but they showed no sign of even twitching a finger.
"So, when exactly are they reviving?"
Cheon Ji-hoo had figured the Holy Mine—a holy spell—would prevent revival. But their brazen confidence made him wonder if skills differed from magic. Apparently not. Skills and magic overlapped. The only difference was that skills ignored causes and forced results.
"Hurry up and show me everything you've got."
His voice, like an urging prod—or perhaps a threat—made X and W flinch. Grinding his teeth at the demand to empty their arsenal, X slammed his skull staff against the floor.
"This mad bastard thinks he can toy with us with his silver tongue! Once the descent finishes, scum like you won't stand a chance!"
"Then make it descend. I'll sit here and wait."
Cheon Ji-hoo squatted down, staring at them with indifferent eyes, as if saying get on with it.
X looked visibly flustered. W smacked him to snap him out of it and spoke up.
"Who might you be, sir, to test us like this?"
"Test?"
"Yes. You don't seem intent on killing us. Why else would you...?"
"What are you talking about? When did I say I wouldn't kill you?"
Her words caught in her throat. Her mouth hung open mid-sentence, as if she'd lost her grip on reality.
"So do whatever you've got, quick. Once I've seen it all, I'll send you off."
"Send us off... meaning...?"
"Obviously. The afterlife."
Where else would trash like you go? Did they think they'd ascend to paradise? Thick-skinned as ever.
Finally grasping their doom, X and W went all out, firing off their so-called magic skills in a frenzy. A swarm of black attacks filled his vision: that Dark Javelin and Abyss Flame from before, plus a bunch of other tiresome skills, hurtling toward him with ferocious momentum.
But even that.
Dispersed against the intense mana waves still emanating from his rotating circle.
He'd told them to go all out, but this was their best? The barrier over the academy was decent, at least.
Cheon Ji-hoo gazed at X and W with a languid expression.
"So, when does this 'descent' of yours actually finish?"
W smirked, drawing a dagger from her waist. Planning a melee attack since magic failed? Still squatting, he watched. Suddenly, W plunged the dagger into X's chest.
"Y-You bitch!"
"Fuck! We need at least one survivor! I offer this sacrifice! Descend! Arch-Lich!"
At W's words, Cheon Ji-hoo perked up. Finally, something worth watching.
A lich was a rare monster born when a high mage revived as undead. An Arch-Lich was an upper-tier variant. Liches progressed from Elder to Arch to Normal based on preserved mana circuits and lifetime knowledge. Arch-Lich was squarely elite.
He watched leisurely as W sacrificed X to summon one. X's stabbed body crumbled to ash, then swirled around W in gloomy energy. She slammed the dagger into the floor.
A powerful aura whipped up a storm, drawing a sinister magic circle.
Cheon Ji-hoo narrowed his eyes at it.
The circle's structure is off...
At his level, he could roughly parse even foreign magic circles. But this one was a mess—like labeling an "Arch-Lich Summon" circle as "IdiotMakesArchLich." Meaningless, ineffective.
Yet it steadily produced an Arch-Lich. Proof the circle was mere flair; skills bypassed causes for results.
Indeed, "[Summoning Arch-Lich]" floated before W's eyes.
"Hmph."
"You're as good as dead! The Arch-Lich is my ultimate summon! Despair before the undead horde—that's your future!"
W, who'd been trembling and begging to flee moments ago, flipped her attitude the instant the Arch-Lich appeared.
Did she really think this would beat him? Cheon Ji-hoo stood, stretching his legs, and eyed the ragged-robed Arch-Lich glaring with murderous intent.
"Rise."
The Arch-Lich shook its staff. Unlike W's earlier rabble, dozens of skeletal soldiers and Death Knights filled the classroom.
Cheon Ji-hoo smacked his lips at the numbers. Not even its limit yet.
As if responding, the Arch-Lich swung its staff again. A horrific voice echoed, black energy enveloping the summoned undead.
Cheon Ji-hoo, who'd watched impassively, let out a small chuckle.
"Hilarious. A summoned Arch-Lich using proper magic..."
How the hell does this world work?
"Enjoy that laugh while it lasts!"
"No, it won't. You wouldn't last against an Arch-Lich without life preservation, yet here you are—a necromancer borrowing a name without grasping the basics of the school."
Cheon Ji-hoo spread his arms. The still-spinning circle expanded into a magic circle. Shapes overlapped, equations inscribed atop them.
The spell: Holy Explosion. An upgrade from Holy Mine.
And one that would wipe everything here.
As the circle completed, a mechanical whine like grinding gears rose. It spun, birthing light. The light condensed into a small orb.
Cheon Ji-hoo reached out, grasping the pure white sphere, and addressed W.
"Remember this, apprentice necromancer. Walking the path of necromancy means always preparing for holy magic."
Not that you'll have a chance to use it.
He released the orb. Sensing the threat, the Arch-Lich ordered its Death Knights to kill him—but too late. The orb hit the floor.
Pure white light erupted, flooding vision and room alike. Death Knights oxidized to ash on contact. The Arch-Lich was no exception.
W's painstakingly summoned prize, born of betrayal, reduced to dust in an instant. And the Holy Explosion's light even reached W, steeped deep in necromantic power.
"Kyaaaaah! KyaAAAAH—!!"
W stared at her hands. They burned from the fingertips. Undead turned to ash instantly, but her human form prolonged the agony—impure energy too dilute for total incineration.
Cheon Ji-hoo maintained the Holy Explosion as he turned and left the classroom. He glanced out the window at the academy's barrier.
Hm. Still holding even if I kill them both.
Likely some artifact's effect. As he stepped to investigate, the barrier vanished. Someone had dispelled it.
Wonder who.
With that thought, he cast Space Transfer to the shelter where Cheon Ji-yoon waited.
There she was: astride Nok's back, wooden sword in hand—like Napoleon's portrait.
What the hell is this now?