“WE HAVE A WINNER!” Olim’s voice thundered across the arena, echoing off the stone walls and reverberating through the stands. The crowd erupted into a mix of cheers and gasps, their eyes fixed on Ludwig, who stood victorious in the center of the blood-stained arena. Two teachers rushed in, their movements swift and precise, as they carefully lifted Melissa’s limp body from the ground. Her once-proud stance was now reduced to a crumpled form, blood pooling beneath her. The teachers worked quickly, their hands glowing with healing magic as they stemmed the flow of blood and stabilized her injuries. Once her pale face began to flush again, they realized that she was out of the woods, and immediately rushed her out of the arena and to what could only be the academy’s infirmary.
Ludwig, still catching his breath not due to exhaustion, but to showcase ‘humanity’ to the many students who think he was a monster. He glanced down at the notifications that flashed before his eyes. The words shimmered in the air—the summary of his battle and the promised rewards for a well-done job.
•[You have completed: Tournament Finalist]
•[You have received: Codex Necros Fourth Page]
•[You have received: Necromania]
[Necromania – Passive – All necrotic abilities will henceforth be improved.
❖Curses will have their potency increased by 20%
❖Bone Spells will have their power increased by 20%
❖All forms of Ritual Sacrifices will have their effectiveness increased by 20%
❖Charisma required to control the Undead will be reduced by 20%
❖Wisdom needed to summon the Undead will be reduced by 20%
❖All dark-oriented spells will have a 20% increase in proficiency for learning and applying.]
[Eternal Quest update!]
❖[Path of the Lich Class has been unlocked! – Can only be achieved after having Skeletal Mage class.]
❖[Path of the Death Knight Class has been unlocked! – Can only be achieved after having Skeletal Swordsman class.]
❖[Currently available Classes after finishing [Black Tower Academy Eternal Quest]:
•[Skeletal Swordsman]
•[Skeletal Mage]
•[Death Knight]
•[Lich]
Ludwig dismissed the notifications with a flick of his eyes, his gaze returning to the arena. The students in the stands were in a state of disbelief, their murmurs growing louder as they processed what had just happened. Many had expected Ludwig to falter, to collapse under the weight of exhaustion after battling so many opponents. Yet here he stood, bloodied but unbroken, his sword still gripped tightly in his hand. The crowd’s initial shock soon gave way to admiration, and the chant began once more.
“UNDEAD LUDWIG!! UNDEAD LUDWIG!” The voices rose in unison, a wave of sound that washed over the arena. Ludwig, though weary, raised his bloodied sword high, the blade catching the light as the crowd’s cheers reached a crescendo.
“Congratulations, Ludwig!” Olim’s voice cut through the noise as he approached, his expression a mix of pride and amusement. “How does it feel?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes sharp, studying Ludwig’s reaction.
“Surreal,” Ludwig replied, his voice steady despite the fatigue that threatened to overtake him. He paused, his gaze drifting back to the arena, where the remnants of the battle still lingered. “But it feels… lacking,” he admitted, his tone tinged with a hint of dissatisfaction.
Olim chuckled, a knowing smile spreading across his face. “That’s understandable,” he said, clapping Ludwig on the shoulder. “To be honest, you got lucky. If Melissa hadn’t charmed the third years, I doubt you’d have been able to win against all of them back to back. Don’t get me wrong, you’re probably one of the strongest students here, even compared to the second years. But the third years? They have a lot more experience. Take Ravi Vondel, for example. He would have been a challenging opponent for you. Even Haku would struggle to defeat him using all his skills.”
Ludwig nodded, acknowledging Olim’s words. He knew that luck had played a part in his victory. Melissa’s charm had incapacitated the third years, giving him the upper hand. But a win was a win, and Ludwig wasn’t about to question the circumstances that had led to his triumph.
As the crowd’s cheers began to die down, Ludwig noticed Van Dijk standing at the edge of the arena, his arms crossed and a faint smile on his lips. “Ludwig, come to me after you’re done here,” Van Dijk called out, his voice carrying a note of authority. Ludwig’s heart—or what remained of it—skipped a beat. He remembered his master’s promise of a reward, and the prospect of learning more magic filled him with anticipation.
A small ceremony followed, during which Ludwig was presented with his prizes. Olim handed him a pouch of Kronas, while Professor Cymoria stepped forward to gift him a ring. The ring was simple in design, but Ludwig could sense the faint hum of magic emanating from it. He slipped it onto his finger, feeling the cool metal against his skin.
[Minor Mana recovery ring]
Mana recovery +10%
The ring was simple enough, but its bonus was pretty relevant. Ludwig didn’t have any items that could help replenish his mana. So this was a good bonus.
Vastion, however, stood apart from the others, his expression unreadable. He offered no words of congratulations, no gifts. Instead, he simply watched as Ludwig was commended for his efforts, his gaze sharp and calculating.
Olim concluded the event with a few final words, urging the students to take Ludwig as an example and work harder to improve their own skills. “Let this be a lesson to all of you,” he said, his voice carrying across the arena. “Strength and determination can overcome even the greatest challenges. But remember, luck can only take you so far. It’s your skill and perseverance that will see you through in the end.”
As the students began to disperse, Ludwig made his way out of the arena, his friends quickly falling into step beside him.
“Ludwig,” Kaela said, her voice cutting through the chatter. She had been quiet during the ceremony, her arms crossed and her expression thoughtful. “You’ll have to spar with me later,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Ludwig glanced at her, noting the determination in her eyes. She had been moved by his fight with Haku, and it seemed she was eager to test her skills against him. “Sure,” he replied with a faint smile. “Whenever I have time, I’ll be at the training center.”
“I’ll see you there, then,” Kaela said, her tone softening slightly before she turned and walked away.
“Yo! Ludwig the champ!” Hoyo’s voice rang out as he bounded up to Ludwig, his grin wide and infectious. His face, which had been puffy earlier in the day, now looked much better, the swelling having subsided. “I just got lucky,” Ludwig replied, returning Hoyo’s smile.
“What do you mean, luck?” Kassandra interjected, her tone teasing but her eyes filled with genuine admiration. “At this rate, you’ll be leaving us in the dust. Going toe to toe with someone who unlocked aura, and then beating the strongest mental enchantress in the academy? Those are no small feats, Ludwig.”
Ludwig could only smile, grateful for the support of his friends. “Where to now?” Hoyo asked, his energy undiminished.
“I’ll need to head to Master Van Dijk’s place,” Ludwig replied. “I was promised a reward.”
“Oh man, you’re really lucky, aren’t you?” Hoyo sighed, his tone tinged with envy. “I wish I had a master like Van Dijk.”
Ludwig patted Hoyo on the shoulder, offering what little comfort he could. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Your time will come. Let’s get moving now.”
***
***
Meanwhile, far to the south, within the heart of the Sacrosanctum of the Holy Order, the bishop who had previously investigated the Black Tower was seated in his study, a letter clutched tightly in his hands. The room was dimly lit, the flickering light of a single candle casting long shadows across the walls. The bishop’s expression was grave as he read through the letter, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“Is this for real?” he muttered, his voice low and filled with disbelief. “This isn’t some sort of foolish prank, is it?” He looked up at the two paladins standing before him, their faces equally serious.
“We don’t know the origin of the letter,” one of the paladins replied, his tone cautious. “But it did come with a fragmented piece of cloth that had signs of Dark Magic on it. We’re leaning toward believing it to be true.”
Before the bishop could respond, the door to the study burst open, and a young boy stepped inside. He couldn’t have been more than thirteen, his face still round with the softness of youth, but his eyes held a sharpness that belied his age. “What’s going on?” the boy asked, his voice filled with curiosity.
“Ah, Saint Mot,” the bishop said, his tone immediately shifting to one of deference. “This isn’t something you should bother with.” He moved to hide the letter, but before he could, a tendril-like appendage shot out from the boy’s sleeve, snatching the letter from the bishop’s hand. The tendril was grotesque, its flesh-like appearance sending a shiver down the spines of those who saw it.
The boy—Saint Mot—read through the letter, his expression shifting from curiosity to excitement. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to visit the Black Tower,” he said, his voice filled with a childlike glee. He looked up at the bishop, his smile widening. “I guess I should pay them a visit now.”
The smile on his face was anything but innocent. It was the smile of someone who knew far more than they let on, and it sent a chill through the room. The bishop and the paladins exchanged uneasy glances, but none dared to argue with the young saint.