Not long after Van Dijk had left, Ludwig heard a soft knock on the door. He hesitated, unsure whether to respond. If it was Van Dijk, the door would open without permission, as the necromancer always made his presence known whether desired or not. But if it was Sebas and Evan, those two loathsome necromancers, they would have no choice but to wait outside.
After a moment of silence, the familiar voice of Sebas seeped through the wooden door like a creeping fog. “Master Van Dijk, we’ve brought the rest of the items you requested. We’ll be leaving now,” he said, his voice oozing disdain even in servitude.
Ludwig waited, listening as their footsteps slowly faded down the spiral staircase, their voices hushed and unintelligible. Cowards, Ludwig thought to himself, rage simmering beneath his calm surface. He wasn’t fond of those two. They’d killed him, after all, and despite his current state of undeath, that was not something easily forgiven.
After a while, the door creaked open on its own. Ludwig turned, finding a small pile of neatly folded black clothes resting on the stone floor, accompanied by a letter, a silver chain necklace, a modest wand, and a set of shimmering potions.
Without much thought, Ludwig approached the items. He was still naked, though it no longer bothered him in the way it would have before. Even though he felt no chill, the bare bones were a stark reminder of what he had become. Dead, but not resting.
“[Inspect],” Ludwig whispered, casting the skill Van Dijk had once taught him.
[Academy Simple Robes]
Category: Light Clothes
Description: Basic attire for students of the Black Tower Academy. Durable, but unadorned.
The fabric felt strange against his bony hands. Although he couldn’t physically feel the warmth of the cloth, its presence gave a vague sense of normalcy. Clothes. Something to disguise the horror of his fake skin-covered skeletal frame.
Next, he picked up the necklace.
[Necklace of Access]
Tier: Rare
Description: A necklace hand-crafted by Bastos Van Dijk for his only pupil, Ludwig. Grants access to the majority of the Black Tower Academy facilities, including classrooms, laboratories, and common rooms. Does not permit entry to high-security areas such as the Library’s third level and the administrative offices.
The necklace shimmered faintly under the dim light of the study. Ludwig felt a strange sentiment bloom within him, though it quickly died as he reminded himself that this was no genuine gift—it was merely another tool Van Dijk had given to maintain control.
Lastly, Ludwig inspected the potions.
[Minor Health Potion]
Tier: Minor Potion
Description: A simple concoction brewed by an apprentice alchemist. Restores up to 300 health points.
[Minor Mana Potion]
Tier: Minor Potion
Description: A basic magical elixir capable of restoring 300 mana points.
Everything was in place for his departure to the academy. The letter, folded neatly atop the robes, was Van Dijk’s recommendation letter, ensuring Ludwig’s smooth entry into the Black Tower Academy. Everything had been prepared. It was time.
Ludwig dressed himself in the black robes, the fabric hanging loosely over his newly covered flesh. Though he had no need for warmth, it felt oddly comforting to have a layer of normality wrapped around his body. But there was no mirror in the room to check his appearance, and Ludwig found himself shrugging at the thought. He had no vanity anymore; it didn’t matter how he looked. Not in this life.
Steeling himself, Ludwig stepped toward the door. He cracked it open cautiously, peering down the spiraling staircase to ensure no one lingered nearby. The coast was clear. Taking a deep, unnecessary breath, he made his way down the stairs, his footfalls echoing eerily in the empty tower.
As Ludwig approached the bottom floor, the grand door leading outside loomed before him. He hesitated, reaching for the handle, but before his fingers could wrap around the cold metal, someone grabbed him from behind and slammed him into the wall.
“It’s you, filthy thing!” a familiar voice sneered, venom dripping from every word.
Ludwig twisted his head to face his attacker, his hollow eyes meeting the cruel gaze of Sebas. Rage, hot and seething, surged through him, threatening to consume his every thought. His bony fingers twitched with the urge to retaliate, to destroy this man who had once taken his life.
But the grip around his body tightened, and Sebas forced him harder against the wall, pressing until Ludwig’s bones creaked.
“Evan, check this out! The fucker’s trying to fight back!” Sebas laughed as if it were some sick game. His twisted smile gleamed in the dim light as he wrenched Ludwig’s arm, dislocating it out of place with an audible crack.
[-20 HP!]
[You are in a hostile environment! Your enemy is far stronger than you!]
[Your right arm has been temporarily crippled]
Above Sebas’s head, Ludwig could now see his name glowing in bright red—[Sebas Murong]. Ludwig considered inspecting him, but Van Dijk’s warning echoed in his mind. Don’t use that ability on people. Sebas would feel it, and that could trigger a fight Ludwig wasn’t prepared to win.
His rational mind urged him to stay calm, but something deep within him—something primal—screamed for revenge. He wanted to tear Sebas apart, to rip him limb from limb, to feast on his misery. But he knew better. He was weak. Still level one, and barely capable of defending himself.
“Calm down, Sebas,” came Evan’s voice from behind. He stepped forward, his name glowing in a yellow hue, with question marks hovering above his status. “That’s the Master’s pet. You can’t break him.”
Sebas sneered, his grip tightening once more before he shoved Ludwig back against the wall. “This creep should’ve stayed dead. I guess the Master keeps you around for some sick, twisted fantasy, huh? Begone.” He released Ludwig, dismissing him as if he were nothing more than trash.
Ludwig’s anger flared once more, but he bit back his rage. He knew better than to fight. Sebas was leagues above him, probably dozens if not hundreds of levels higher. Any attempt at retaliation would be suicide. Ludwig understood this world well enough to know that levels mattered, and right now, he was nothing.
“Don’t you go blabbering to anyone at the academy about what we do here,” Sebas growled, his face inches from Ludwig’s. “The headmaster might know about Van Dijk’s… shady experiments, but if word spreads that we’re dabbling in necromancy, I’ll make sure you cease to exist. Understand me? I can fend off the charges, but you won’t survive one of my spells.”
Ludwig remained silent, as was expected of an undead servant. But inwardly, he was seething. His hatred for Sebas grew with every word the necromancer spoke. Someday, Ludwig thought. Someday, you’ll pay.
Evan, who had been standing back and watching, finally stepped in. “Sebas, you blundering idiot,” he muttered, dragging his companion away. “You just gave away our position. What if he does talk, even by accident? Necromancy’s still banned in the academy. You’ve only made things worse.”
Sebas rolled his eyes, scoffing at the idea. “We’ve got Bastos to back us up. Let them come with their torches and pitchforks. We’ll be fine.”
Evan sighed heavily, facepalming in frustration. “You’re an idiot, Sebas. Now, he’ll be thinking of ways to frame us. I’ll have to inform the Master. Maybe he’ll warn the skeleton to keep his mouth shut.”
The two bickered as they left the tower, their voices fading as they walked away. Ludwig stood there, still against the wall, he propped his dislocated arm back, and it felt sickening, not the fact that the pop was disturbing, but the fact he didn’t feel a thing during the entire incident. Slowly, he pushed himself up and adjusted his robe, his fury simmering beneath his calm exterior.
They think I’m nothing. They treated him like garbage, like some mindless puppet.
But that wouldn’t last forever. He made a mental note of their conversation, their threats, and their arrogance. One day, Ludwig thought darkly, one day, they’ll regret this.
He turned toward the door once again, pushing it open with a renewed sense of determination. The world outside greeted him with cold air and the distant hum of life. Far in the distance, the Black Tower Academy stood like a beacon of knowledge and power, its dark spires reaching toward the sky.
Ludwig took a deep breath—unnecessary but symbolic—and stepped forward. His path was set.
