Necromancer Academy Genius Summoner

Chapter 7: The Power of Curses
The room fell silent.

'...Did they just call my name?'
Simon felt his face go pale.
"Simon Polentia student. Are you here?"

Simon swallowed hard and stood up. The gazes of a thousand peers were fixed on him.
"Who is that?"
"I have no idea."

"Is he Special Case #1?"
Though it was his first time in such a large gathering and receiving so much attention, Simon decided to keep a low profile.
"First class is Curse Studies."

Simon, seated towards the back, opened his textbook and looked up. He noticed students behind him quickly turning their heads away.
Simon forced a smile and pretended not to notice.
Drrr!

The classroom door finally opened, and the professor entered. Cheers erupted from the students who recognized him.
"Vahil Amagar!"
"Is it really him?"

"Wow!"
Necromancers, once associated with darkness and gloom, had evolved. Modern necromancers were smart, practical, sophisticated, and trendy. The image of being stuffy and conservative now belonged more to priests.
And Vahil was one of the leading figures representing this new generation of necromancers.

Dressed in a pristine white suit from head to toe, Vahil possessed a model-like physique. His striking appearance, coupled with his young age of late twenties and his status as a core member of Kizen's elite force, the "Crows," made him an absolute idol among Kizen students.
Vahil waved to the cheering students, a charming smile on his face. Some female students even fainted.
"Welcome, freshmen. I am Vahil Amagar, your Curse Studies professor for this year."
Another round of cheers erupted. Vahil skillfully calmed the students with a wave of his hand and placed his felt hat on the desk.

"Let's start with a fundamental question. Why do we study Curse Studies?"
Vahil's opening words immediately captivated the entire class. Every student leaned forward, determined not to miss a single word.
"Is there anyone who can define 'curse'?"

The girl sitting right in front of Simon, wearing glasses, raised her hand enthusiastically.
"Clawdia Menzies! A curse is a dark magic that weakens the opponent while maintaining one's own power!"
"Excellent. Clawdia."

Vahil's praise made the girl's face flush with excitement.
"But simply saying it 'weakens' the opponent might not be enough to truly grasp its power. Let's imagine two knights with equal strength, both wielding swords."
Vahil drew a sword-like shape on the blackboard.
"They clash swords, fiercely battling, wearing each other down, waiting for the other to make a mistake or show a weakness."

Vahil wrote "Exhaust" on the board.
"After exchanging blows for twenty rounds, neither falls. Then, one knight, with a roar of rage, glares at his opponent with murderous intent. The other knight, unknowingly, flinches and shows a frightened expression."
Vahil wrote "Pressure" on the board.

"Finally, the knight's sword pierces his opponent's shoulder, spilling blood. The opponent's movements falter, and he begins to lose his footing. The tide of battle slowly turns in his favor."
Vahil wrote "Bleeding" on the board.
As the battle between the two knights unfolded, more and more words appeared on the board, all representing different types of curse magic.

The students' hands were sweaty, and Vahil's voice reached its climax.
"And finally! The knight finally severs his opponent's neck!"
Vahil lowered the chalk, and a hushed silence fell over the classroom.

He looked around at the students, his eyes gleaming.
"Now you understand. Even the most primitive and barbaric form of combat, simply clashing weapons, is ultimately a series of steps to weaken the opponent and secure victory."
Vahil wrote "Doom" on the board, connecting it to all the previously written curse magic words.

"Then, let's move on to modern necromancer combat."
He drew a rough human figure on the board.
"How can a necromancer defeat this opponent?"

Vahil circled all the curse magic words he had written and drew a line connecting them to the human figure.
"Victory."
"Ahh..."

The students gasped.
"Curse magic is a dark magic that is simple in structure and allows for quick deployment. It's efficient because it can significantly weaken the opponent with minimal effort."
Vahil smiled and raised his hand, casting a curse spell at lightning speed, instantly knocking out the student sitting in the front row.

"Agh!"
The student collapsed, unable to move, his eyes wide with shock.
Vahil approached him calmly.

"This is..."
He grabbed the student's magic sword from his bag and mimed slashing his neck.
"Modern necromancer combat."

Ooooh!
Excited students jumped to their feet, cheering.
Vahil smiled and bowed, then released the curse on the student.

"Most of you will choose different majors, but I dare say that over 80% of freshmen will take my class next semester. Curse magic is a versatile field of study. It complements your unique talents while allowing you to subtly weaken your opponents. That is the most efficient way to secure victory."
He walked back to the podium.
"Let's move on to a topic that will pique your interest."

He wrote "Priest" under "Curse Studies" on the board.
"Our main enemy. Necromancers have 'curses,' while priests have 'blessings.' Enhancement magic versus weakening magic. Right here."
Vahil smiled mischievously.

"Can anyone explain why curses are superior to blessings?"
The room fell silent.
Students glanced at each other, unsure.

One student raised his hand. It was Jamie Victoria, the first student called during roll call.
Vahil smiled and nodded.
"Jamie Victoria. Curses are superior to blessings in casting speed! We can weaken the opponent faster than blessings can enhance them!"

"Interesting perspective."
Vahil crossed his arms.
"But you're wrong. While casting speed is important, scholars argue that priests' blessings are slightly faster than curses, as they don't have to penetrate the opponent's resistance."

Jamie sat down, looking disappointed.
"Anyone else have an opinion?"
A student with a thick build and a strong face raised his hand.

"Hector Moore."
"Speak."
"A weakened person rarely trains themselves."

It was a riddle-like answer, but Vahil's lips curved into a deep smile.
"Student, what's your name again?"
"Hector Moore."

"I'll remember that."
Ooooh!
Envious whispers filled the air.

With a thousand freshmen, getting the professor's attention was crucial for survival. Having your name remembered was a significant advantage.
"Hector is right. Curse magic cannot be countered through training."
He looked around at the students.

"People train assuming they are in peak condition. Their performance is measured based on their abilities when all factors are within their control. But humans are surprisingly delicate creatures. Even the slightest change can disrupt them."
The students nodded.
"A necromancer doesn't just cut off the archer's arm pointing at them. They can cause eye inflammation, induce nausea, disrupt distance perception, or distract them with other objects. Even an arrow that should have hit its target might miss."

Vahil smiled.
"Necromancers possess various means to weaken the enemy. But think about it. How many people train to counter curses when they are exhausted or suffering from severe stomach pain? They'd just take a day off."
Laughter erupted from the students.

"Remember this. We should focus on weakening the opponent rather than enhancing ourselves."
Students nodded, scribbling furiously in their ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) notebooks. It seemed like a topic that would definitely be on the exam.
"Alright, let's move on to practicing curse magic directly."

Simon, who had been diligently taking notes, suddenly looked up.
'What? We're learning black magic from the first class?'
"Let's see... who wants to try casting a curse first?"

A student with a thick build and a strong face raised his hand.
"Vahil Amagar!"