Chapter 132: Necromancy

Larry’s words echoed Helag’s own thoughts.

Only by becoming strong could he rely on himself to face any challenge.

Two days later.

“Helag Merlin: Strength 8.6, Agility 7.7, Constitution 9.3, Spirit 19.7, Mana 100%.”

Helag had completed the meditation for the twelfth star, but his injuries hadn’t fully healed yet. He still needed Bessie’s help to walk.

He checked his space ring and found he had over 2,300 magic stones left.

“Since I’ve decided to leave after becoming a formal wizard, I need to make the most of my time here,” Helag thought.

Moonlight Forest offered valuable resources and knowledge.

Helag planned to use his remaining time and magic stones to acquire as much as he could.

Many types of knowledge were easier to obtain within a wizard organization. Once outside, it would be much harder.

The first thing Helag wanted to learn was necromancy, a field he knew little about.

To learn necromancy, he needed to find a formal wizard in Moonlight Forest who could teach him. It would be costly, but Helag could afford it.

Ten days later, in town.

“How are you feeling?” Larry asked.

Helag stretched a bit. “Almost fully recovered.”

“Your strong constitution is a big reason for your quick recovery,” Larry nodded.

Helag smiled. “Thanks to the potions you made, otherwise I’d still be bedridden.”

Larry had prepared special potions for Helag’s injuries, which had been very effective.

“You should also thank Bessie. She’s been taking care of you,” Larry said, sipping his coffee.

Helag sighed. “I’m destined to leave. Even at your place, I probably won’t stay long.”

He was confident in his advancement speed, knowing that higher levels would require more resources.

As a first-level wizard, he could still find what he needed here. But for second or third-level wizards, he’d have to go elsewhere.

Bessie, a third-level apprentice, couldn’t follow him everywhere.

Moreover, Bessie had given up her own cultivation to build a pure-blood wizard family, a long-term goal.

Helag didn’t want to be tied down. His focus was on improving his own strength.

Thinking about necromancy, he asked, “Do you know any wizards here who teach necromancy?”

“Necromancy? Lady Moran is quite skilled in it. I can ask if she’s available. But why do you want to learn necromancy? Too many fields can lead to being a jack of all trades, master of none,” Larry cautioned.

Helag understood. For most apprentices, balancing multiple fields was difficult.

One field, like potion-making, could consume most of their time and energy. Necromancy was even more complex.

“I’m preparing for the future. I want to gather the knowledge now and digest it later,” Helag explained.

Larry agreed. Once outside, acquiring such knowledge would be harder.

He sent a few messages with his rune stone and said, “Lady Moran agreed. Basic necromancy knowledge costs 100 magic stones. You can visit her at D-6 this afternoon; she’s available.”

D-6 wasn’t far. Helag arrived after a ten-minute walk.

Following the signs, he found Lady Moran’s house.

Unlike Larry’s, it was a three-story building with a small yard filled with carnivorous plants.

The plants sensed Helag’s approach, raising their heads and opening their mouths, dripping with saliva.

Helag hesitated at the gate, unsure whether to enter.

He wasn’t afraid of the plants but worried they might damage themselves on his shield.

“Come in. They’re just curious and won’t bite,” a pleasant voice called from inside.

Helag cautiously walked in, keeping an eye on the plants.

If they attacked, he could dodge in time.

The plants watched him intently as he reached the door.

Helag knocked. “Lady Moran, I’m Helag, Larry’s student.”

“Come in.”

The door opened automatically, and a cold breeze blew out, giving Helag a chill.

Inside, the lighting was dim, with only a few oil lamps in the corners.

The room smelled strongly of preservatives and kerosene, which was quite pungent.

Helag wondered why there were kerosene lamps instead of the usual fluorescent stones.

Ahead was a table with a book and a bottle of green liquid, bubbling slightly.

Behind the table sat a small figure in a black robe, their features obscured.

Helag didn’t dare probe further, being cautious around a formal wizard.

“You want to learn basic necromancy?” the melodious voice asked from beneath the robe.

Helag nodded. “Yes, here’s the fee.”

He handed over a small bag containing 100 magic stones.

Feeling a pull, he released the bag, which floated to the table.

Lady Moran waved a hidden hand, and a glass bottle floated to Helag.

He caught it, finding it filled with a beer-like liquid.

“This is the basic necromancy knowledge. Drink it here,” Moran emphasized the last part.

Helag understood, knowing she wanted to ensure he didn’t resell it.

He uncorked the bottle and sniffed. It smelled like beer but with a stronger fermentation scent.

Helag downed it in one gulp.

The liquid dissolved instantly, with none reaching his stomach.

Soon, Helag felt his head swell as information flooded his mind.

“Knowledge transfer.”

Helag controlled his mental power, absorbing the information.

Half an hour later, his mind was filled with necromancy knowledge.

He now knew about malevolent spirits, evil entities, and basic soul principles.

“You’ve mastered the basics. You can now learn basic necromancy spells,” Moran’s voice was as pleasant as a song, her final laugh uplifting.