Chapter 76

[Translator – Prøks]

[Proofreader – Gun]

Chapter 76: Second Betrayal (2)

Banshees.

Unlike specters, which are melee-oriented undead, banshees are spell-casting undead on par with liches.

And a Banshee Queen?

That’s likely to be a powerful mage.

So the destination was the magic department.

As he walked, he glanced at his reflection in a glass window.

The face staring back was familiar. ‘Looks just like when I was Baek Socheon,’

His name was Cairn, but his skin was a reflection of his real-world self.

‘Well, it’s just the name that’s changed.’

He approached a cleaner working outside.

“Excuse me, could you tell me where the magic department is?”

The cleaner, seemingly cautious due to his academy attire, pointed in a direction.

“It’s that way.”

“Thank you. By the way, what do you think of necromancers?”

“Necromancers? What’s that?”

The cleaner tilted her head, clearly puzzled.

Kim Minwoo elaborated.

“You know, the kind that summons undead and so on?”

“Summoning undead? Is that even possible? I’m not very educated, but I’ve never heard of a magician who does that.”

Kim Minwoo raised an eyebrow.

‘So, necromancy doesn’t exist here?’

It was odd.

Wasn’t this the world where the Death Lord roamed?

The Death Lord was a necromancer.

He must have been summoning the undead all over the place.

Yet there was no sign of necromancy?

Two possibilities came to mind.

First, necromancers had been hunted down so thoroughly that they vanished from common memory.

Necromancers getting hunted wasn’t rare, so this wasn’t entirely surprising.

The second possibility?

Necromancy simply didn’t exist as a form of magic here.

If that were true, the Death Lord might have been the very first necromancer.

‘If it’s the first scenario, every skill is locked down.’

He looked at the cleaner, contemplating what to ask next.

“Do you, by any chance, know of any magic users who deal with corpses or practice other dark arts?”

“Um… I think the Death school deals with that.’

“Death school?”

“Yeah. I’ve heard that they use corpses, curses, bones, poisons, that sort of thing. It’s pretty grim stuff.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it. I’ll be on my way.”

A building came into view ahead.

As he approached, he noticed guards stationed at the entrance.

One of them, seeing the badge on his uniform, raised an eyebrow and asked,

“The swordsmanship department? Shouldn’t you be in class right now? What brings you here?”

“I was asked to bring something to someone named Merhen. Professor Charles needed me to deliver it,”

He said, using Charles’ name to get past the guards.

The guard seemed to recognize the name and walked over to a receptionist to verify.

After a brief exchange, the guard returned.

“She’s here, but she’s in class. You’ll have to wait.”

“No problem.”

He nodded and approached the receptionist.

“Excuse me,”

“Yes?”

“Do you also teach about the school of Death here?”

“Yes, we do.”

“Can students switch departments?”

“Switch departments?”

“Yeah. I’m interested in becoming a mage in that field.”

If Merhen was here, switching departments might give him a better shot at getting close to her.

Plus, if necromancy was taught, there was a chance he could leverage his existing skills and blend in more easily.

“You’re in the swordsmanship department, right? If you’re in your second year, you can switch, but you’ll need to pass an aptitude test, you’d have to take an assessment from Professor Wellington. He’s on the third floor. You can see him after class ends.”

“Thank you.”

The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and the whole building became a flurry of activity.

He made his way up to the third floor.

[Professor Wellington’s Office] was marked on a nameplate.

He knocked on the door.

“Who’s there?”

“Cairn, from the swordsmanship department. May I come in?”

“….Come in.”

He entered the professor’s office.

A pale man with round glasses scrutinized him.

“What brings a swordsmanship student here?”

“I’d like to become a death mage,”

“…A swordsman?”

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

“Not necessarily…”

Wellington, the professor, seemed puzzled.

The death school of magic wasn’t exactly popular.

Its practices involved handling corpses, resulting in foul odors, and the spells themselves were often grim and unappealing to look at.

Furthermore, its power wasn’t significantly greater than other schools of magic.

Why would a student from the swordsmanship department want to join such a field?

It was a question that had the professor scratching his head.

Nevertheless, he reached for a crystal orb on his desk.

“This orb measures your affinity for death magic. If you have the potential, it will turn black. Place your hand on it.”

Cairn rested his hand on the orb.

Wellington didn’t expect much.

It wasn’t uncommon for students from other departments, particularly those struggling with their chosen path, to explore alternatives.

Many sought refuge in the magic school, hoping to avoid the grueling training of the swordsmanship department, where blisters and bloodied hands were the norm.

Death magic was often the last resort for those with no other prospects.

It was an unpopular discipline, and even the smallest affinity could lead to acceptance.

Usually, these cases involved a faint shade of gray, indicating a weak potential.

‘Just another student looking to escape,’

Wellington thought, only half-interested as he waited for the orb to respond.

Then, the crystal orb changed color.

“What?”

Wellington’s eyes widened in shock.

The once-clear orb had turned pitch black.

“Wow, it’s completely black,”

“Good heavens!”

Wellington’s hands trembled as he held the orb.

This was a level of affinity he had never seen before.

He quickly grabbed Cairn’s hand.

“Are you going to be a mage?”

Wellington asked, barely containing his excitement.

“Yes,”

[Translator – Prøks]

[Proofreader – Gun]

“Excellent! This kind of talent should be learning death magic, not swinging a sword! What a waste!”

“Can I switch departments, then?”

“Of course! Just curious, how were your grades?”

“I was at the bottom of my class, apparently.”

Wellington’s smile widened.

‘Perfect. No one’s going to fight me on this.’

Sometimes switching departments could be a hassle, especially if the student was a top performer.

But if the student was at the bottom of their class, it was usually an easy process.

He’d heard about a notorious underperformer in the swordsmanship department—a scion from a noble family with a reputation for trouble and a lack of talent.

Something like “Cairn…”

“What’s your name again?”

“Cairn.”

“Oh, right, okay, go pack your things from your dormitory and come back here. We’ll have a room ready for you.”

Wellington thought the transfer would be a breeze.

Given Cairn’s reputation as a troublemaker and the lowest performer, there was no reason anyone would oppose his move to the death magic department.

But then…

“The swordsmanship department will never let Cairn go! He’s our future hope! Absolutely not!”

“Excuse me?”

“We will not allow his transfer!”

“Um… he’s quite infamous, isn’t he?”

“Of course! He’s the one who took down Professor Charles in a one-on-one duel!”

“Wait, what?”

“Didn’t you hear? Cairn defeated Professor Charles. The professor admitted it—Cairn is a prodigy!”

Wellington was stunned.

Professor Charles was one of the most skilled instructors in the swordsmanship department.

Suddenly, the department head’s vehement opposition made sense.

“Now what do I do?”

Switching departments just got a lot more complicated.

“Why is a swordsmanship student trying to transfer to the magic department? Did you find some hidden talent or something?”

Wellington nodded solemnly.

“He’s got the potential to be the next master of the School of Death,”

“Wait, what?”

The head of the swordsmanship department’s expression turned serious.

A future master?

Now he understood why Wellington was so eager to snatch Cairn away.

No one in their right mind would want to lose a student like that.

“Cairn is also very keen on switching departments, as you know, the student’s opinion should be considered above all. Surely, you wouldn’t disregard their wishes, right?”

The head of the swordsmanship department cleared his throat.

“Why does Cairn want to transfer in the first place? I think we should get his reasons straight before we proceed.”

“Fair enough, let’s bring Cairn in and let him explain.”

Cairn entered the office, giving a casual greeting.

“Hello.”

“So, Cairn, I heard you’re interested in transferring to the magic department. Can I ask why?”

“Is that important?”

“It is when you’re one of our top students. It would be a loss to the entire Empire if you leave. I need to know why you’re considering such a move.”

“There’s nothing else to learn here.”

“Nothing to learn?”

“If I can beat a professor in a duel, what else is there for me here? I don’t have time to waste, so just let me transfer.”

“You might be misunderstanding something, the swordsmanship department is vast. There are plenty of instructors who can still teach you a thing or two.”

Cairn smirked.

“Fine. Bring them all. Let’s see if they can put up a fight,”

He said, cleaning his ears in mock boredom.

“I’ll wait.”

***

All the students from the Swordsmanship Department gathered in one place.

The reason?

An epic showdown was unfolding.

The infamous troublemaker Cairn was challenging the Swordsmanship Department’s professors to duels, and the news spread like wildfire.

Classes were halted, and everyone flocked to watch the spectacle.

“Oh my God.”

“How many professors has he beaten already?”

Professor Charles, who had been the first to challenge Cairn, was outmatched.

Then came Professors Hemington and Milanol, both prominent instructors, who also failed to withstand Cairn’s skill.

None could last more than fifty strikes before Cairn’s blade was at their throats.

The last one to challenge him was the department head, Arnold.

He managed nearly a hundred strikes before Cairn landed a decisive blow.

“See? There’s nothing left for me to learn here,”

Arnold chuckled, though it was clear he was feeling the pressure.

In his prime, he had been the deputy leader of the Empire’s Royal Guard, and even with years of experience and a sharp mind, he couldn’t beat Cairn.

“Do you really have to leave?”

“I really have to.”

“Are you sure? We could offer you so much to stay.”

“What’s the point if I can’t learn anything?”

Arnold knew Cairn was right.

His skills were unmatched, and no one in the Swordsmanship Department could challenge him.

It was a harsh truth that he had to accept.

“Isn’t there something we can offer to keep you?”

Arnold pressed, almost begging at this point.

“Let me take whatever classes I want. If I have to stick with just swordsmanship, I might as well leave.”

Arnold’s eyes brightened.

“You mean you’d consider staying if we let you choose your own classes?”

“Exactly. And I want to take ‘my choice’ of classes, not just swordsmanship.”

Arnold shot a sly look at Wellington, the professor from the Magic Department, who was watching from a distance.

A competition between departments was brewing, and Arnold intended to come out on top.

If Cairn stayed, the Swordsmanship Department would keep their star student and could even boast a cross-discipline approach to teaching.

It was the perfect setup for a rivalry, and Cairn couldn’t help but smile as he watched the two professors plot their next moves.

[Translator – Prøks]

[Proofreader – Gun]