NECROMANCER STARFALL

The silver‑tinged dawn spilled across the grand spires of Loran Royal Magic Academy. White marble walls glowed softly under the radiance of sacred sunlight, and carved reliefs of holy paladins and radiant light priests lined every corridor. For hundreds of years, this academy had stood as the most prestigious cradle of talent across the whole Aetheran Continent. It was closely bound to the Holy Light Holy See, the supreme power that governed every corner of mortal lands. Every year, countless promising young men and women flooded through its iron‑bound gates, dreaming of awakening orthodox professions, climbing the ranks of cultivation, winning glory for their families, and earning the blessing of the Holy Light God. Today marked the annual Profession Awakening Ceremony. Hundreds of teenage apprentices gathered in the enormous circular Awakening Hall. Giant luminous runes spread across the ground, glowing with milky‑white holy radiance channeled by academy high‑ranking instructors borrowed from Holy Light canon. The air hummed with surging mana. Every youth wore neat academy uniforms; excitement, anxiety, and ambition flickered across their faces. Among this sea of hopeful apprentices stood Lalen. Lalen stood near the rear of the crowd, shoulders slightly hunched. Orphaned at an early age, he possessed no noble lineage, no wealthy family backing. His parents had died in a monster incursion years ago, leaving him nothing but a meager stipend barely enough to pay academy tuition. Worse still, he was widely known throughout Loran Academy as an elemental‑null waste. Every basic elemental spell—fire, frost, wind, thunder—had utterly refused to respond to his soul. No matter how hard he meditated, no matter how many basic spell scrolls he studied, elemental mana would never resonate within his body. All his fellow apprentices mocked him behind his back. Teachers sighed and shook their heads. Even his arranged fiancée, the noble lady Seraphina of House Veyra, had grown cold and distant over the past two years. Only the rigid academy rules had kept their engagement nominally intact up until this awakening day. If Lalen failed to unlock a decent profession today, that engagement would vanish instantly. He understood this perfectly well. Cold, heavy pressure coiled tight inside his chest. “Next! Step onto the awakening rune array!” boomed the lead instructor, Grand Mage Kael. His grey beard fluttered, and his robe bore silver embroidery symbolizing loyalty to the Holy Light Holy See. One apprentice after another strode forward. Brilliant lights burst forth from the runic circle beneath their feet. Bright gold for Holy Light Priest, blazing scarlet for fire elemental mage, icy azure for frost mage, sharp emerald for archer, deep bronze for warrior. Cheers erupted time and time again across the hall. Families watching from the spectator galleries applauded loudly. Noble heirs displayed powerful initial talents, drawing envious gazes from onlookers. “Very good, mid‑tier potential for Holy Light Priest!” “Exceptional fire‑element affinity! You shall enter the elite combat mage track!” “Bronze warrior profession, fine physical aptitude!” Pride shone on every successful youth’s face. The atmosphere inside Awakening Hall grew more feverish by the minute. Apprentices whispered amongst themselves, speculating on who would emerge as this year’s top genius. Seraphina stood not far away, her golden hair cascading over her shoulders. She glanced briefly toward Lalen, her beautiful features twisted with undisguised impatience and disdain. She had hoped for a powerful, high‑status husband. Marrying a waste who could not wield elemental magic was an unbearable humiliation for her noble house. Finally, the instructor called Lalen’s name. “Lalen!” Every pair of eyes in the great hall shifted toward him. Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Smirks and sneers bloomed on many young faces. Everyone already expected disappointment. Lalen drew a deep breath, suppressed the churning unease in his heart, and walked forward onto the glowing awakening formation. The milky‑white holy runes wrapped around his body. Mana surged upward, probing deep into his soul core, seeking to draw forth his innate profession. All the apprentices held their breath, waiting for the familiar brilliant radiance to bloom. But nothing like that happened. The pure white sacred light abruptly dimmed. Pitch‑black, eerie grey mist seeped out from underneath Lalen’s feet. Bone‑chilling cold swept across the entire Awakening Hall. Faint ghostly wails echoed faintly at the edge of hearing. The holy runes shivered, flickering as if resisting this polluting power. Dead silence fell over the whole chamber. Grand Mage Kael’s eyes widened in horror. He stepped backward, his face turning pale. “Impossible…” Black necrotic mist swirled around Lalen’s figure. A tattered spectral symbol materialized floating above his forehead: the twisted skull icon of the Necromancer. Gasps burst out all around. Shock swiftly morphed into revulsion and scorn. “A Necromancer?!” “He actually awakened the lowest‑ranked heretic profession!” “Of course! He is an elemental waste, so he draws only cursed dark power!” In Aetheran Continent, Necromancer was universally deemed the most worthless, despised vocation in existence. Holy Light Holy See’s doctrines hammered into every soul: necromancy was filth, corruption, absolute evil. Necromancers summoned fragile, brittle skeletons that crumbled under even moderate blows. In equal‑rank combat, necromancers almost always lost. They were outcasts, hunted fugitives, trash that anyone could bully. A tall young noble pushed through the crowd. It was Lord Julian, the most celebrated genius of this academy intake, Seraphina’s close childhood friend. Julian’s golden armor glinted, and his warrior aura radiated imposing mid‑tier strength. He stared down at Lalen standing within the dark mist, and loud, mocking laughter burst from his throat. “Truly fitting for you, Lalen. The academy’s biggest waste has awakened the continent’s most useless profession!” Julian raised his voice so every person present could hear. “No wonder you cannot command fire or frost. Your soul is tainted by darkness!” Whistles and jeers echoed through the hall. Seraphina stepped forward, her jaw lifted with icy aristocratic pride. She pulled off the silver engagement token hanging around her neck and tossed it contemptuously onto the marble floor at Lalen’s feet. The metal clattered sharply. “Our engagement is dissolved this instant.” Her voice cut through the noise. “I shall never bind my fate to a necromancer heretic. You bring shame upon every person who once knew you.” Lalen stared down at the discarded silver token lying on cold stone. Pain burned inside him, yet his expression remained calm. He had half‑expected this outcome, though the raw sting still bit deep. Grand Mage Kael shook his head with complete disappointment. “Lalen. I had hoped you might at least unlock a mediocre warrior path. But necromancy… Under academy rules, you will retain your student status for now. Yet you shall receive no more elite resources. You are forbidden from entering orthodox magic libraries. You may only access the lowest‑tier discarded books in the forbidden basement stacks. Do not drag this academy’s reputation into disgrace.” With those words, he turned away, already focusing his attention on the next apprentice, writing Lalen off entirely. The ceremony concluded shortly afterward. Joyous groups of newly awakened students departed to celebrate their bright futures. Lalen stood alone in the emptying Awakening Hall. The black necromantic fog slowly faded away. The skull symbol vanished. Sneering glances followed him as he walked out into the courtyard. Apprentices pointed fingers, whispered insults. Some threw small stones at his back. “Necromancer freak!” “Waste of academy space!” He returned to his tiny, shabby dormitory at the very edge of academy grounds. The room was cramped, poorly lit. Dust coated the wooden desk. Most students lived in spacious, well‑furnished quarters. Only outcasts and failures ended up here. Lalen closed the wooden door, shutting out the mocking world outside. He sank onto his hard bed. Everything had been stripped away in a single day. Respect, future prospects, his engagement, access to cultivation resources. He was the most humiliated apprentice in the centuries‑long history of Loran Royal Magic Academy. Even so, he refused to sink into total despair. He pulled out a tattered introductory necromancy textbook he had fetched from the forbidden basement. According to standard common knowledge, necromancers channel mana to reanimate weak skeletons. Those skeletons possessed brittle bones, trivial strength, easily shattered by a single ordinary sword strike. Lalen closed his eyes, circulating the faint necrotic mana inside his soul. He focused his will toward a small animal bone he had collected some days prior, trying to perform his very first summoning ritual. Dark mana flowed out, wrapping the fragment of bone. For a heartbeat nothing happened. Then strange, blazing golden runes suddenly ignited deep within his soul core, runes he had never seen before. They had laid dormant his entire life, sealed deep within his bloodline. Star‑Husk Sovereign Physique. Talent of Ten‑Thousand‑Spirit Return to Void — Awakened. A flood of ancient, overwhelming knowledge crashed into Lalen’s mind. Vast memories of pre‑Holy‑See star‑husk necromancy surged through his consciousness. He learned the terrible truth: ordinary necromancers were shackled by the false world rules rewritten by the Holy Light God. His own body was one‑of‑a‑kind, an ancient inheritance lost for millennia. One of his innate powers unfolded in his perception: Hundred‑fold Undead Amplification. Every undead creature he summoned would receive a hundred‑fold boost to all physical attributes, mana resilience, and combat power. The small bone shard on the floor shuddered violently. Black necrotic smoke billowed outward. Bones clattered together, assembling rapidly. In mere seconds a complete skeletal soldier stood in the middle of his tiny dorm room. This was no flimsy common skeleton. Its bones shimmered with dark metallic luster. Its hollow eye sockets burned with fierce crimson soul‑fire. The aura it radiated easily surpassed mid‑tier combat strength. Lalen gazed at his summoned skeleton soldier, his heartbeat racing. The whole world regarded necromancy as garbage. But his power was something else entirely. Outside his dormitory door, heavy footsteps approached. Julian’s arrogant voice rang out, accompanied by two of his mid‑tier warrior followers. “Lalen! Open this door, trash! You dare stain our academy with heretic magic. Hand over whatever meager cultivation supplies you still own. From today onward, everything you have belongs to us!” They intended to bully him, rob his last few resources, and beat him down, just as everyone expected they could do to the worthless necromancer reject. Lalen’s eyes turned cold. All the humiliation he had endured today burned inside him. He would no longer endure being trampled without resistance. He stood straight, glancing toward the powerful skeleton soldier standing silently at his side. The era of the powerless waste was finished.