Something's wrong with my undead

In the early morning, the moon thistles in front of the cemetery gate were stained with frost, and the dark iron railings looked colder than before.

In August 772, when the last crops of the year had not yet been harvested in most areas of the McCalla Basin, Heine had to put on a sweater and a thickened windbreaker.

Probably because of the necromancy, autumn often comes earlier in the Boneyard than in other places.

Heine rubbed his cold cheeks and tightened the collar of his windbreaker.

When the first bell rang, he pulled out the latch, kicked open the iron door, pushed the homemade dining cart out of the dormitory area next to the cemetery, and went straight to the restaurant.

The dining car became the center of attention as soon as it appeared, and the students who had been waiting early poured over like a wave of corpses.

Most mages who have been contaminated with death energy for many years have dull expressions and numb nerves. Their body structures have been damaged by death energy, and their sense of taste and other senses have undergone irreversible degradation.

But the Boneyard is just an academy for the undead, and while the students are not good at their studies, they are not deeply affected either.

So even though they are used to cold food and don't care about the taste, when steaming steamed buns filled with three kinds of chopped chili peppers and stir-fried marinated pork appear, few people can refuse.

"Don't be too crowded. There's a lot of food today, so everyone can have a share."

Heine shouted symbolically and opened the lid of the pot. In an instant, a dozen skinny and pale arms stretched out against the hot water vapor.

Necrotic nerve endings are not afraid of hotness or coldness, which is somewhat of an "advantage" of being infected by dead energy.

On the last day of business, he stopped staring at who didn't pay.

In three years, he not only earned back his tuition fees by relying on these "side tricks", but also earned an extra 60 gold coins, which is about four times the three years' tuition fees. He didn't care about this.

This group of people inhaled loudly, their faces glowing red after eating.

The spicy buns were not delicious, they were hot and spicy, and there was no salt in the fillings, but it was enough to stimulate their dull nerves and satisfy their desire to chew.

Heine was somewhat glad that he had not become like this.

"What are you thinking about?"

The speaker appeared behind him, a mature and elegant woman.

She was wrapped in a thick cotton robe, her black hair was neatly tied up, and her neck was slender. Whether it was the red eye shadow or the elastic white skin, they were incompatible with the burial place.

"Teacher Siara? I thought you weren't coming."

Heine took out a warm oil paper bag from his windbreaker pocket, which contained three normal-flavored buns.

It turns out he also makes food for people to eat.

Siara took the breakfast and thanked her, with a look of regret and shame on her face.

"Sorry, I really can't keep your status as a student this year. Your grades are obviously so excellent."

"It's not your fault. Besides, I only got full marks in your general studies and cultural classes. Although my grades in spells, spellcasting, and alchemy are good, they are not important. Instead, summoning..."

Heine smiled self-deprecatingly: "You know, that was the core reason why I was persuaded to quit. The Boneyard will not tolerate a necromancer who can't even control skeletons selling steamed buns in the restaurant every day."

He looked past Siara and towards the short old man wearing a dirty apron behind him.

He looked extremely slovenly, with flies flying around him, and he was staring resentfully at the crowd here, especially the two people who were talking.

Realizing that he had attracted the other person's attention, he immediately lowered his head and pretended to clean.

"what happened?"

Siara noticed his gaze and looked back.

"Well, there's really no one who wants you gone more than old Hunter. Ever since you started selling these pies, no one's been eating his sausages and rye bran bread."

Heine smiled noncommittally.

Old Hunter is the person in charge of the restaurant and the logistics manager of the college.

He must have contributed a lot to why he was fired so quickly.

The two chatted casually for a few more words, but Siara was called away by someone else. Before leaving, she asked, "Wait for me at the door at noon."

At this time, the buns in the dining cart were almost sold out, and the students were almost empty. Heine pushed the dining cart that had accompanied him for three years to Old Hunter.

"I'll sell you this car for ten gold coins," he said.

"Ten gold coins? Madman, you are such an unreasonable madman."

Old Hunter exclaimed, glared at him and turned away.

"If you don't buy it, I'll sell it to someone else for one copper coin, along with a complete tutorial. Then no one will eat your clean and hygienic rotten sausages."

The old man turned back angrily and stared at him bitterly.

"One silver coin, the most I can pay you for this pile of junk is one silver coin!"

"Ten silver coins, or I'll give it to someone else for free."

"You damn vampire!"

He cursed and threw ten dirty silver coins into the money jar.

"It's yours now. Goodbye Mr. Hunter and wish you good health."

Heine smiled happily. The car was not worth much. He just wanted to make the other party feel bad, and had no other intention.

"Get out of here, you are not welcome in the burial ground!"

……

The sun was shining brightly at noon, but the air was still cold.

The carriage stopped at the bridge, and the burial ground was surrounded by lakes. This was the only way out.

It is said that this place was originally a battlefield. Later, because the terrain was difficult and it was difficult to escape, it was built into a dungeon. Many people died in the prison, resulting in excess death energy, which later became the burial ground.

The main body of the college is underground, and the surface is a cemetery, dormitories for students, and a classical church.

If you stood on the shore and looked from a distance, few people would associate this quiet lake center with the Necromancer.

Heine, who had finished packing, leaned against the carriage and stared at the statue in the cemetery in a daze.

"Pity……"

In the end, he failed to touch the true transcendence.

You can still save a considerable amount of wealth after studying for three years, which is an extraordinary achievement for ordinary people.

But as a time traveler, Heine's pursuit goes beyond that.

He knows that this world is much more dangerous than his previous life, and ordinary people will die silently at any time.

So he worked very hard and got high marks in every subject except summoning, but he just couldn't summon the undead.

Even the least talented student could make a dead body lift up its upper body, but he couldn't even make a skeleton move its fingers.

He didn't have a plug-in either - of course, maybe he didn't find it. What if Goldfinger died and was put on again?

It's a pity that he doesn't have a chance to try it yet, and he doesn't dare to try it.

"Awaited!"

Siara ran panting from the direction of the church.

While teaching general studies, she is also a priest, responsible for treating those poor souls who are accidentally lost when communicating with the underworld.

"It's okay, I haven't been here long."

"this is for you."

Siara handed him a letter. Heine hesitated for a moment, took the letter and asked:

"what is this?"

"This is a letter of introduction I wrote to the lord of Ebony Town. Although you have not officially graduated, with your ability and knowledge, you can be a consultant and provide help in alchemy, geography, and etiquette."