I Became The Necromancer Of The Academy Novels & Stories

“Growth without limit is not a gift. It’s a disease. The kind that devours everything around it.” The mirrors darkened for a moment, the reflections fading into shadow. Only whispers remained. “Let the academy think itself safe.” “Let the children play with their Veins and Elements.” “When the time comes, Caelron will fall from within.” The hum deepened—like the mirrors were drawing breath. Then—one by one—the reflections vanished, leaving the hall empty once more. Only the faint residue of their voices lingered in the silence, a chill echo curling through the air like smoke:

She paused. Then opened it.". The air shifted immediately — colder, denser. From the shadows, her warlock advisor emerged. "My lady…" he warned. "You vowed once never to open that book." "I never vowed," she said coldly. "And besides… losers make rules." She turned a page — blood-red text exhaled onto the parchment, vibrating with forbidden power. Necromancy. Soul merging. Harvest spells that derived strength not in sacrifice… but in bondage. "I will obtain a vessel," she spoke softly. "And I will feed this plague something new. A hunger that is beholden to me."

Uncomfortable but manageable. Students passed me. Some nodded. Some ignored me. Some glared. But no one stopped me. No one confronted me. Just let me exist. It was strange. Being visible. Being known. Being unable to hide anymore. But also freeing. No more lying. No more fake identity. No more constant fear of discovery. I was Elias Caelum. Omega. Bonded. Student. Survivor. Activist. All of it visible. All of it real. The Academy wasn't perfect. Wasn't fully accepting. Wasn't everything we'd fought for.

He knew I was not the Lumira whose medical records he had studied. "Dark magic is not native to this body," he said, placing his cards on the table with deliberate precision. Not playing cards. Research notes, thin and precise, covered in diagrams I couldn't read from this distance. "Necromancy at your level requires a soul that has already crossed the threshold. A soul that has died and returned, carrying the imprint of the grave. The original Lumira never died — not truly. She was murdered. There is a difference." He looked at me, and for the first time, his clinical mask cracked. Not with emotion — with hunger. The hunger of a scholar who had found the anomaly he had been searching for.

In the end, I didn't move. Luca had picked up on my internal struggle and hesitation. Instead of getting mad, he pulled me into his arms. "Are you feeling ill?" I shook my head and replied, "I had a nightmare." As though something had suddenly popped into his mind, Luca's arms tightened around me, looking extremely anxious. "Believe me, Elena. To each other, Celia and I are nothing more than a parent and a personal tutor. Please don't misunderstand us." Parent and tutor? To him, was it appropriate for a tutor and her student's parent to get down and dirty in the wine cellar?

"But the Zergs attacked the transport. Now I'm stuck here, waiting for the students from the Academy to rescue us." Mythos Academy...Why does that sound so familiar? "And you?" he asks. "What are you doing here?" "Tourism," I lie smoothly. "By the way, what's your name?" "Arlo Napki." Arlo. The name hits me like a bullet. My memory clicks. Just yesterday, my rival mocked me with a trashy novel. It's a dark fantasy smut story where logic doesn't exist. I am the vicious Villainess destined to be humiliated and killed. Arlo, the pathetic male villain who awakens the power of Narcissus—cursed with useless beauty and zero combat power.

I run my fingers through my hair, letting it fall in disordered waves, then slip on black stilettos, so high I stagger. In the mirror, I don't recognize myself. The woman staring back has flushed cheeks, swollen lips, eyes bright with a fever I can no longer deny. She looks ready. Ready to be devoured. I grab my long wool coat and step out into the night. The Academy stands at the end of a lane lined with gnarled oaks. The building itself is a nightmare of black stone and red stained glass, the windows lit by a golden glow that seems to breathe. As if something inside were waiting for me.

"Your life will never be normal again." I froze. The atmosphere suddenly felt cold. The wind from outside gently blows through the kitchen window. And for some reason, a strange feeling arises in my chest again. As if something deep within me is awakening. My uncle finally left a few minutes later. I stood by the window watching him walk toward the forest alone. And again, without a trace of fear. The house felt much quieter after I immediately froze. My reflection in the window slowly lifted its head. And his eyes… Silver.

I turned my head and saw a tall boy stepping out of the shadows near the back wall, and his dark, tailored uniform marked him as the highest-ranking warlock in the entire academy. His sharp jawline and pale skin gave him an eerie, sculpted look, but it was his cold, calculating eyes that made a sudden shiver run down my spine. The whispering started immediately across the room, and lower-tier students actually ducked their heads because warlocks of his elite status never involved themselves in petty cafeteria drama. He ignored the terrified stares of the crowd and walked casually toward the edge of his secluded, empty table. He didn't say a single word to Phaedra, and he didn't even acknowle

But aside from that, the Necromancer Hunt was also established. A massive amount of gold, silver and properties are promised to the one who will be able to kill the Necromancer all because the one who is being hunted is the only Necromancer alive in the whole kingdom. Saiya raised her hand and as soon as it cast a shadow on the floor, Greyn appeared beside her. "I'm the only necromancer alive, right?" Greyn answered with a nod. "Then who might be the necromancer hiding at Akashia Village a month ago?" TO BE CONTINUED