The surroundings fell silent as if a mouse had died. "...... Did they just call my name?" Simon felt his head turn completely white.

"Simon Polentia. Is he not here?" Simon swallowed dryly and stood up.

The gazes of a thousand peers were focused on him.

"Who is that?" "I have no idea."

"Is he really number one?" This was the first time Simon had been in such a crowded place, and it was also the first time he had received so much attention.

Simon gulped repeatedly as he walked up to the podium and stood next to Serne.

"Huuu."

As Simon slowly exhaled, the host approached and patted his shoulder.

"No need to be nervous. Just do as you’re told here."

"Yes, understood."

Serne was looking at Simon.

She nodded, and Simon nodded back in response.

The two of them raised their right hands simultaneously.

"Oath."

Then, from behind, the voices of 998 students chanting "Oath" could be heard.

"We, the new students..."

Simon moved his lips, but his head was spinning.

He didn’t even know if he was speaking correctly or what the content was.

He just did his best to read along with Serne’s voice, making sure not to miss a single word.

And so, from the very first day of school, Simon caught everyone’s attention.

"What the hell! Wow! You were the special case number one?" As soon as Simon returned to his seat, Rowan shouted excitedly.

Simon tried to explain the whole situation, but the tight schedule of classes had already begun, and he had to immediately move to the lecture hall.

Even though it was the first day of school and the entrance ceremony, they didn’t just let it slide.

The first class started right away.

Simon was assigned to Class A.

The first semester of the first year was conducted without any major, and there were a total of 14 classes.

At first, more than 60 students would attend the same class, but later, this number would often be halved, and classes would be merged frequently.

When Simon entered Class A, he didn’t know anyone.

Neither Lorraine nor Rowan was there, and the only familiar face was Cindy Vivace, whom he had met at the bookstore, who greeted him with a "Hey! Special case number one!" Still, since it was a new class, everyone was a bit awkward, so Simon could blend in just fine. 'The first class is Curse Studies.' Simon, who had taken a seat at the back, took out his textbook and looked up, only to see students turning their heads away quickly when they noticed him looking.

Simon forced a bitter smile and pretended not to notice.

Creak! Finally, the classroom door opened, and the professor entered.

The students who recognized him erupted in thunderous cheers.

"Bahil Amagar!" "Is it really him?" When people think of the word "necromancer," some imagine dark, gloomy figures hiding in the shadows, handling corpses.

But that was a thing of the past.

Modern necromancers who have risen to the mainstream are smart, practical, sophisticated, and trendy.

In fact, the rigid and conservative image is closer to that of priests.

And Bahil was one of the representatives of this new generation of necromancers.

Dressed in a pure white suit from head to toe, Bahil had the proportions of a model.

With his striking looks and being a young necromancer in his late twenties who was part of Kizen’s core force, the "Crows," he was a star among necromancers.

For Kizen students, he was an absolute object of admiration.

Bahil smiled warmly and waved at the students’ cheers.

The sound of some female students swooning could be heard.

"Welcome, freshmen. I am Bahil Amagar, and I will be teaching Curse Studies for the first-year students this year."

Another round of cheers erupted.

Bahil raised his hands and skillfully calmed the students before placing the felt bowler hat he was wearing on the lectern.

"Now, let’s take attendance. Since this is the first time you’re meeting each other, when your name is called, please give a brief self-introduction."

Bahil called out the attendance list.

"Jamie Victoria."

"Yes! Professor, it’s such an honor! I also want to follow in your footsteps...!" Bahil reached out to stop Jamie’s words and winked playfully.

"You’re not introducing yourself to me, but to your classmates here. Again."

Small laughter could be heard from various corners.

Jamie Victoria blushed and said that she looked forward to working with everyone during the semester.

After Jamie’s smooth start, everyone introduced themselves with the usual "Nice to meet you" vibe.

Simon also decided to keep it simple, as standing out more in this situation wouldn’t do him any good.

Some students introduced themselves in a way that appealed to group work, while others gave off the vibe of "I’m great, so you better recognize it."

"There are many unique students here. Good."

Bahil, who had put down the attendance list, rolled up his sleeves and approached the blackboard.

"Now, let’s begin the class."

Tap.

Holding a piece of chalk, he wrote the three characters for "Curse Studies" on the blackboard.

When he wrote the last character, "Studies," he pressed so hard that the chalk broke and flew off.

Bahil, as if used to it, picked up a new piece of chalk.

"Let’s start with a fundamental question. Why do we need to learn Curse Studies?" Bahil had a charm that drew everyone in from the very first sentence.

All the students leaned forward, not wanting to miss a single word.

"Can anyone define what a curse is?" The girl sitting right in front of Simon, wearing glasses, quickly raised her hand.

"Claudia Menzies! A curse is a type of dark magic that weakens the opponent while maintaining one’s own strength!" "Excellent, Claudia."

The girl’s face flushed at Bahil’s praise.

"But simply saying it 'weakens' the opponent might not resonate with some of you. Alright. Let’s say there are two knights here, each with the strength of a hundred men."

Bahil moved the chalk and held it like a sword.

"The two knights clash swords and begin to fight fiercely. They exhaust each other’s stamina, waiting for the other to make a mistake or show an opening."

Bahil wrote "Exhaust" on the blackboard.

"They exchange blows over twenty times, but the opponent doesn’t fall easily. Then, the knight who is clashing swords lets out a roar and glares at his opponent as if to kill him. The opposing knight flinches unconsciously and makes a frightened expression."

Bahil wrote "Pressure" on the blackboard.

"Finally, the sword cuts through the opponent’s shoulder. The opponent begins to bleed, and his movements become shaky. Slowly, the tide turns in his favor!" Bahil wrote "Bleeding" on the blackboard.

As the fight between the two knights progressed, more and more words appeared on the blackboard.

All of those words were types of curse magic used by necromancers.

The students were on the edge of their seats, and soon Bahil’s voice reached its climax.

"And finally! The knight finally beheads his opponent!" Bahil lowered his arm holding the chalk, and a deathly silence fell over the classroom.

After silently looking around at the students, Bahil smiled and wrote the word "Doom" on the blackboard.

Gasps of admiration erupted from various corners.

"Now do you understand? Even the most primitive and barbaric form of human combat, simply clashing weapons, is ultimately a series of steps to weaken the opponent and move toward victory."

Bahil picked up a new piece of chalk.

"Now, let’s look at the combat of a modern necromancer."

He drew a stick figure on the blackboard as if doodling.

"How does a necromancer defeat this opponent?" Bahil circled all the curse magic words he had written so far, then dragged them to the stick figure.

"Victory."

"Ah...!" "Curses are among the lightest and simplest forms of dark magic, allowing for rapid deployment. With just a little effort, you can completely destabilize your opponent. They are highly efficient."

Bahil winked at the male student sitting in the front row.

Then, with a swift motion, he completed and launched an exhaustion curse in a matter of seconds.

"Gasp!" The male student collapsed onto his seat.

He couldn’t move, only rolling his eyes around.

Bahil walked over to him leisurely.

"This is exactly."

He then pulled out a mana sword from the student’s bag and pretended to strike his neck.

"The combat of a modern necromancer."

Ooooh-! The excited students jumped up from their seats and cheered.

Bahil smiled warmly, bowed his head in response, and then released the curse on the student.

"I don’t know what major you’ll choose, but I dare to predict that at least 80% of you freshmen will still be taking my class in the second semester. Curse Studies is a highly compatible field. While honing your specialties, take every opportunity to steadily plant curses on your opponents. That will be the most efficient way to secure victory."

He walked back to the podium.

"Now, let’s talk about something you’ll find interesting."

He wrote new characters below the "Curse Studies" on the blackboard.

"Personally, I believe Curse Studies is the core of modern necromancy. The reason is."

He wrote "Priests" on the blackboard.

"Because it is the most efficient means to deal with our main enemies."

He brought up a sensitive topic right from the first class.

Immediately, a strong sense of competition arose in the students’ eyes.

"Now, I’ll ask you this. If necromancers have 'curses,' then priests have 'blessings.' The difference between enhancement magic and weakening magic. Right here."

Bahil smiled warmly.

"What is the advantage of curses over blessings? Can anyone explain?" The surroundings fell silent.

As the students looked at each other, one raised their hand.

It was Jamie Victoria, the first one called during attendance.

Bahil smiled and nodded.

"Jamie Victoria. Curses have the advantage in casting speed! You can stack weakening effects faster on the same opponent!" "Interesting opinion."

Bahil crossed his arms.

"But you’re wrong. If we only consider casting speed, blessings from priests are slightly faster than curses, which have to penetrate the opponent’s 'resistance,' according to scholarly consensus."

Jamie bit her lip in disappointment and sat down.

"Any other opinions?" Then, someone else raised their hand.

A male student with a strong jawline, thick eyebrows, tall stature, and a good build.

"Hector Moore."

"Go ahead."

"People rarely train themselves in a weakened state."

It was a riddle-like answer, but a deep smile appeared on Bahil’s lips.

"Student. What was your name again?" "Hector Moore."

"I’ll remember that."

Ooooh- Envious voices echoed around.

With a thousand freshmen, getting the professor to remember your name was a huge advantage, as it increased your chances of survival.

"Hector is correct. Because weakening magic cannot be blocked through training."

He looked around at the students.

"Everyone trains under the assumption that they are in peak condition. The measure of one’s skill is how much performance they can deliver when all conditions are within their control."

The students nodded.

"Humans are much more delicate creatures than they appear. Even the slightest change can throw them off. Cutting off the arm of an archer aiming at you isn’t the only solution. Causing conjunctivitis to impair their vision, making them nauseous, confusing their sense of distance, or distracting them with other objects can also make them miss the arrow they were supposed to hit."

Bahil raised the corner of his mouth.

"Necromancers have various means to lower the opponent’s condition. But think about it. How many people train to prepare for curses when they’re extremely fatigued or have stomach pain so severe it feels like their intestines are being torn? They just take a day off."

The students chuckled.

"So remember. We should focus more on finding ways to weaken our opponents rather than strengthening ourselves."

The students nodded and began to move their pens.

It seemed like this would definitely be on the exam, so they started taking notes.

"Now, let’s move on to learning curse magic directly."

Simon, who had been taking notes diligently, suddenly looked up. 'What? Are we really learning dark magic from the first class?'