My Necromancer Class



~Mirror Reality 34~

Loki had been busy. During the day, he manipulated Heather into helping him, and during the night, he stole two more warp charges.

Little did the majority of the sleeping students know that the faculty staff had went on high alert and swarmed around the academy and all its facilities; the mirror reality had become unstable, with only one bridge linking it back to the real world.

While the reality seemed stable on the inside, it was barely holding onto its link to time and space, which gave rise to anomalous activity. Low appeared gravity in some areas, high gravity in others. Time fluctuation, light stuttering, and temperature changes were the least of the threats; the most dangerous parts were pure-black fractures that appeared, each of them void and filled with nothingness. A single misstep and your foot would disappear as if it had never existed; painless until you realized your leg had become a stump gushing blood. Even the temporal robes couldn’t protect one from these voids of shattered darkness.

The temporal robes were a product of the second academy. Each of them were covered in elaborate runes and shifting patterns that flowed around the robes, swaying and moving as if they as if they were living paintings. There were enough for the staff to each adorn one, but not for the students.

Not a student, but an unwilling servant, Smiley was forced from his sleep and given a robe, ordered to patrol and mark out areas that were unstable. However, he couldn’t be more thrilled.

Smiley thought that the faster this false-reality broke down, the better. It would serve to bring him one step closer to the real world, and if he could break this world, he would do it. Consequences be damned.

As he walked through the forest near the academy, he had one destination in mind. The bamboo-demon dungeon.

He kicked stones as he went, and some froze, hovering in the air, while others shot off faster than a bolt of lightening.

“These things are quite useful.” Smiley murmured, watching the patterns on his temporal robe wave wildly in one moment, then slow to a near-stop the next.

As he approached the dungeon entrance, he noticed something odd. The damage he had caused with the first warp charge appeared again, flickering in and out of existence. It was like it couldn’t register what was real as it tried to mirror the real world, but lost connection and reverted back to the damaged state that the warp charge had left it in.

Smiley threw a rock towards it, and it landed just as the damaged-entrance appeared. Then, the rock began to flicker with the rest of it, unsure of its own existence. At Smiley’s feet, the very same rock appeared again, as if it had never been grabbed and tossed away, causing Smiley to frown.

A little too risky. Smiley thought, casting aside ideas of entering the dungeon. On the way back towards the academy, he made sure to mark every unstable area, and even went a step further, adding a marker each time the robe’s patterns so much as shifted or waved slightly.

Smiley didn’t know for certain that he had caused this, at least in part, but he guessed it was likely, and he had no problem with continuing his plans.

What fault am I at, if I were to collapse this world with everyone in it? I’m nothing but a slave. They don’t all give me orders, some are innocent, but they’re all complicit in my unwilling servitude. They may have their reasons to keep me here, for their own safety, but I won’t pay that price for them. Smiley thought.

He pitied those who lived here, who were ignorant of his situation, but he counted them as weak. In this world, and the real world, only the strong would cease their survival, gripping it with unyielding madness until their flesh tore from their fingers, never loosening their resolve, even for a moment.

As he planted markers down, he made a winding trail or safety, like a filter, and he began to see every trial and lesson like that—a filter, separating the wheat from the chaff, the strong from the weak.

Even the academy is like that. A filter of intelligence and strength. Only the strong, the resolved, and the crafty make it through to the end. If only they knew they were being filtered out with every meager step they took. Perhaps they would study harder. Smiley thought.

But only those who make it hold the right to rule. If they can’t push themselves to greatness, they have no right to rule others.

Smiley solidified his resolve, determined to never give up, to use every ounce of willpower he had to make sure he succeeded.

After a night of patrolling and marking out the unstable areas, most of the staff were relieved of their duty when morning came. The students were prohibited from leaving academy grounds until after a grand assembly, where they were briefed on the situation, and told not to go near any of the markers they had laid.

The students whispered and chattered, confused and frightened, and after the assembly, most refused to leave the academy grounds, since the academy castle was reinforced against the instability.

Of course, Loki dared to leave, and with Heather in tow. She still had to hold up her end of the deal she had with Loki, who had brought her sentimental hair clip back. Promises were hard things to break, especially promises made to someone as cunning as Loki. She still didn’t know that Loki was the one who had stolen the hair clip in the first place.

As they approached an older building, Loki stopped.

“Wait here.” He whispered, and then went inside.

Loki brazenly went down the basement steps, uncaring if he would disturb Smiley’s sleep, but as he got to the bottom he saw a smile as cunning as he was.

“Have you got another?” Smiley asked.

“Two more. For six levels.” Loki replied.

“Deal. Hand them over.”

“Levels first.”

Smiley scoffed, “We did levels first last time. This time, the charges first.”

“One charge now, the other later.”

Smiley circled around Loki, blocking the exit to the stairs.

“Both now, or I’ll kill you later.” Smiley said, standing between the bottom the stairs and Loki. “Or you could die now and I’ll take them off your dead body. It seems that the staff are quite busy, they probably wouldn’t find your body for days.” Smiley retrieved his sword, the tip was still melted.

Loki tilted his head, his eyes narrowing on the melted tip of the sword. “That’s… new?”

“Mm, it should hurt more when I kill you with it.” Smiley raised the sword back, about to strike, his killing intent surged, and Loki no longer doubted his madness.

“Wait! Here. Six levels?” Loki said, bringing them out of his inventory, trying to keep his hands from shaking while placing them on the ground.

“Six levels.” Smiley said, and stashed away two warp charges, then turned to the stairs.

“Wait, you’re doing it now?” Loki asked.

Smiley turned and glared back. The answer was obvious.

“Ah, just a second. There’s someone who can help. Outside there’s a girl called Heather. I think you’ll find her powers useful. Take it as a sign of good faith… and I trust you’ll uphold your end of the deal?”

Smiley’s eyes softened and looked over Loki, seeing something in the timid man that, perhaps, Loki didn’t.

“You can come if you’d like.” Smiley said, and left up the stairs. Loki scratched his head, and followed shortly after.