Undead Spirit

V1C 2: Creation.

Flowers are still flowers, trees are still trees, the blurred colors of the world remain unchanged.

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What changed was Roge.

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Awakening, Roge felt like a fish in a pond, looking out, the whole world seemed to gently sway in the ripple of light.

The flowers, the trees, the colors, turned into a painting, a flat painting.

Roge tried hard to see what was behind it, even wanting to leap out, but like a fish in a crystal bowl, he bounced back every time.

It took from summer to autumn for Roge to recover, or more accurately, to fall back into his old bad habits, not checking in the morning if his hands had turned into skeletal bones.

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Roge could clearly feel the existence of the divine essence, those silver eyes, chiseled lines, the waves under the white robe, like fragments of a dream occasionally flashing through his mind, igniting a flame in his heart.

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The necromancer's natural disdain for angels didn't dampen Roge's desire of passion; it was gradually overwhelmed by it.

Many nobles share this obsession, but while most nobles believe themselves superior to commoners in every way, Roge's idea was much simpler: to use the divine essence to recreate a light angel as his pet.

Roge had never desired power as much as he did at that moment, the light angel so unforgettable, what must the heavenly divine realm be like? Having a pet was something a level seven magician could do.

Relying on Roge's mental strength, the necromancer chose to leave behind the knowledge of the magical fusion circle, and the purity of the divine essence, so when his magical power reached the level of a third-level magician, maybe he could barely summon his own pet.

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Fes was a ninth-level magician, his magic laboratory was a quiet two-story building deep within the academy.

Fes's strength alone wouldn't grant him this privilege, but his proficiency as an alchemist was far more important than his magical strength.

High-grade magical items were everyone's favorite.

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Of course, Roge's appearance was not pleasing.

Fes chose Roge as his apprentice partly because of his excellent flattery and partly because Roge resisted the temptation of Fes's valuable gems.

Roge was no gentleman who would not take lost property but understood the principle of forgoing small advantages for greater benefits.

Another deep reason in Fes's heart was his pleasure in being served by a noble, despite his commoner background.

After several outings together, Fes and Roge quickly developed a deep friendship and found much common ground.

However, seeing Roge suddenly become obsessed with magical circles and magic power training, Fes was quite pleased.

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"Teacher, what are these crooked symbols in the magic circle for?".

"They serve the same purpose as the spells you learn; they are drawn to gather the corresponding magical energy in space.

The function of a magic circle depends on the amount, type, and order of energy gathered, which varies with the different magical materials used to draw the spells. “

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"So there are many combinations of magic circles?".

"Of course, there are hundreds of recorded magical materials and dozens of pure magical energies, including various divine powers.

With spells to control the size, direction, and timing of energy, the combinations are endless.

The existing magic circles are the result of countless failures and summaries by predecessors. “

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"What happens if a magic circle is drawn incorrectly and activated?" Roge cursed himself for asking such a stupid question as soon as he finished.

The explosions that occasionally occurred in Fes's laboratory were evident enough.

However, Roge was lucky; as an alchemist, Fes's magical strength was not great, but his knowledge of magic circles was indeed profound.

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Three-quarters of the students at the Rhine Magic Academy were nobles, including lower nobles like Roge who often received cold looks.

Noble students were generally less diligent than commoners, but with magical equipment, even beginner magicians could compete with commoner students.

Due to the financial gap, commoner students had no choice but to improve their magic power through hard training.

Originally, Roge lacked the financial means to purchase magical equipment and was unwilling to train hard like the commoners, so his strength was average, occasionally bullying the commoners outside the academy.

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Days passed, and the weather gradually cooled.

Almost everyone who knew Roge was surprised by his change; the short, fat, and shameless guy was now either buried in old books in the library or locked in his room meditating.

With his magic power slowly increasing, on a snowy day, Roge's magic power reached the level of a third-level magician.

During these days, Roge also made an unexpected discovery.

After a complete transformation, his body possessed explosive power and agility not inferior to that of wild beasts.

"It's better to say you're a magical beast than a person," the necromancer concluded.

In the early stages of soul fusion, Roge could still talk to the necrom.

ancer in his consciousness.

Now, the two souls had completely become one, indistinguishable from each other.

But obviously, this conclusion could only come from a necromancer very familiar with the body structures of humans and magical beasts.

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Another surprise was mental strength.

One afternoon, as Roge struggled with "The Principles of Wind Magic Circles," those silver eyes burned his nerves again.

"I really want a damn drink," Roge thought of the wine glass on the table by the window.

The desire for those eyes made him ready to continue drowning in the sea of magic circles, but he found the wine glass quietly floating in front of him.

As Roge stared in astonishment, the wine glass crashed onto his head, spilling cheap wine all over him.

After that, Roge discovered he could control the movement of objects with his mental strength.

After months of fearless and reckless practice, Roge could finally throw a cat sneaking into the room outside.

This ability, compared to magic, was both troublesome and useless, but the necromancer's understanding of the world's essence made Roge vaguely feel this ability was extremely useful.

It wasn't until many years later that Roge realized he had wronged the necromancer; his foresight originally came from a cunning person's innate sense of conspiracy.

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Anyway, the great day finally arrived.

Roge looked at the colorful magic circle he had drawn in the room, nearly ecstatic.

This pet summoning magic circle had undergone significant modifications to align with the divine essence.

The pets of general magicians were nothing more than small demons, crows, or black cats, mostly used for reconnaissance.

The summoned pet and the magician's soul had the most direct and essential connection; the death of the pet usually brought significant damage to the magician.

In this regard, Fes once asserted that the pet Roge summoned would be either a wild boar or a mole.

Pets play a minor role in battle, even large creatures like black tigers.

Instead of using pets for combat, it's better to use summoned beasts, which are powerful and safe.

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Roge's chant was completed, and magic power began to flow into the magic circle, from the outside in, each symbol in the circle started to light up, various lights intertwined together.

When the entire magic circle lit up, the devil's roar and heaven's hymn intertwined in the circle, Roge sweating profusely, veins bulging, desperately supporting the circle's endless demand for his magic power.

Slowly, a black fog appeared in the center of the circle, dripping down mercury-like liquid.

The silver liquid became more and more, and when there was as much as a human head, the fog dissipated, leaving only this mercury-like substance constantly changing and tumbling in the air.

Roge chanted another spell, placing his hand above the substance.

Slowly, a golden droplet seeped from Roge's fingertip, dropping into the substance.

The substance suddenly wriggled crazily, bursts of black fog sprayed out, filling the entire magic circle.

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Roge sat weakly to the side, watching the magic circle with hope, those silver eyes flashing before his eyes from time to time.

Roge knew that this creature would be something the world had never seen before, whatever it was, he hoped, the pet would have a pair of silver eyes.

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The fog cleared, and Roge silently watched his new pet, a battered skeleton.