I Want to Be an Elementalist Mage! Not a Necromancer!

The Necromancer's expectant smile froze on his face.

He glanced at the Roman Knight struggling desperately, then turned his gaze back, quietly staring at Gret. White light poured down from the ceiling, casting deep shadows under his eye sockets and cheekbones. His emaciated face, like skin stretched over bone, grew more and more similar to a skeleton's.

Gret's heart skipped a beat. His opponent was a Necromancer, far stronger than him, and his pet alone could crush him. If he refused his request, would he... be tied up and dissected?

Gret's heart trembled, cold sweat breaking out on his back, but he met the Necromancer's gaze without flinching. His fists clenched, his knees pressed back, keeping his legs from shaking...

He had to uphold the doctor's principles! Acting on personal whim and cutting into a patient was absolutely unacceptable!

Gret's expression was resolute, his gaze clear. The Necromancer, Lynn, met his eyes for a moment, shrugged, and waved his hand. The Black Cat, carrying the Knight in its mouth, turned and returned, tossing the person back into the bone prison.

The stone door closed. All the curses, exclamations, and relief were shut out. Lynn the Necromancer glanced at the stone door, then looked back at Gret:

"But what if he harms you?!"

"I'll kill him back."

Gret replied proudly. He paused, then added:

"But—I will never use my medical skills to harm anyone."

That was the vow he had made when he first entered the profession in his past life, on the day he became a medical student.

Lynn was silent. He looked at Gret's vibrant, youthful face, lost in thought for a moment, and sighed:

"Before, I had a friend... who thought the same way you do."

"And then?"

"Later... after I became a Necromancer, I avenged him."

"I'm sorry."

Gret quickly apologized. After a moment's thought, he tried to make amends:

"How about I show you a tendon-suturing surgery? Give me an animal, a large one will do!"

"Aha!"

Lynn chuckled.

Half an hour later, Gret was also animatedly engaged. A live sheep was tied to a platform in front of him, brought by Mister Troca from who-knows-where, bleating. On a small table to the side, a row of surgical tools was laid out: scalpels of various sizes, surgical scissors, retractors, a bow drill for making holes...

Although the sharpness of the blades was questionable, and sterilization was unthinkable, they were, after all, surgical instruments!

He could touch a scalpel again!

Happiness Index +1, +1, +1...

"Can these be used?"

Lynn watched him eagerly. Gret touched each instrument one by one, then looked up at the ceiling and sighed:

"Something's missing."

"Tell me what's missing!"

"Curved needles, an electrocautery... Forget it, I'll burn one with a soldering iron. No needle holders, sigh, I'm not used to this. Give me two more needle-nose pliers, or tweezers if you don't have pliers!"

Skin preparation, cleaning. Gret held the sheep's leg skin with tweezers in his left hand, gripping the scalpel handle with his thumb and middle, ring, and little fingers, his index finger resting on the back of the blade, and began to explain in a steady stream:

"So, this way of holding the knife is called the bow grip. Why is it called the bow grip?" — Oh no, does this world have violins?

Gret's mind raced. Never mind, even if there were no violins, there might be erhus. In any case, various ethnic groups around the world had instruments they used for playing. Gret quickly made a gesture:

"It's like holding a bow for a string instrument. Holding the knife like this allows for more force when cutting, usually used to cut through skin and muscle..."

"Really, really? Let me see carefully..."

Lynn's furry large head stretched forward. A large shadow fell on the sheep's leg under Gret's knife, obscuring his vision.

"Hey, move back a bit... Tsk, still can't see clearly. Your lighting is no good! Can you get an operating lamp?"

"What? Lights can be shadowless?!"

Gret had to put down the scalpel to satisfy Lynn's curiosity first. One sketching and drawing, the other tinkering and banging, they messed around for about an hour. What Gret remembered as the most peculiar shadowless lamp was finally constructed above the operating table:

Four skeletal arms, crossed in a spiral around a spine, forming a cross. Four hands each held two ribs, forming a large circle that two people could embrace. Dozens of bone hands hung densely within the circle, each bone hand holding an enchanted glow stick.

Gret: "..."

Well, at least the light source met the requirements, right? And the bone hands holding the glow sticks hanging down made it convenient to adjust the direction, no matter what...

He performed surgery to his heart's content under the shadowless lamp all night. He cut the tendons, used tweezers to pull out the retracted tendons from deep within the muscles, stretched them, trimmed their shape, and healed them with Healing Spell. He continued dissecting, continued suturing, and finally, they slaughtered the poor sheep, and the three of them—two humans and one cat—happily drank a pot of mutton soup.

The next morning, Gret, carrying two leather suitcases, was reluctantly sent out by the Necromancer.

One case contained the surgical instruments he had used before, while the other was much more valuable. Placed one by one in compartments lined with red velvet, they were crystal clear and transparent—all glass.

Beakers, flasks, crucibles, stirrers, balances...

It was a set of basic alchemy equipment.

There were no herbs or powders in the case, yet this set of alchemy equipment alone was worth a fortune. Gret felt a little uneasy:

"This is too valuable."

"No, this is nothing. My friend—" the Necromancer shook his head vigorously:

"There's a saying among mages: no knowledge is priceless. Last night, you generously shared so much knowledge with me, so please allow me to share something with you. These little gadgets—"

He waved his arm, drawing a large circle above the leather case:

"Every mage should have a set! Every single one! My dear friend, believe me, if you join our School, you'll get much more sophisticated equipment than this!"

Much more sophisticated?

Does it have a microscope?

Does it have a centrifuge?

Does it have a UV spectrophotometer?

If not, even a pipette would be fine!

Gret grumbled inwardly. Since it had none of those things, he might as well find a way to gather them himself. Relatively speaking, joining a School that interested him was clearly more important.

My sterilizer, my culture dishes, my equipment for separating, purifying, and analyzing/synthesizing various potions, my X-ray, ultrasound, MRI...

Elemental School, Alchemy School, I'm counting on you!

Gret was immersed in hopeful dreams. The Necromancer Lynn walked beside him, chattering incessantly, trying to persuade him. All the while, Lynn kept glancing at Gret and the box in his hands, wishing they could snatch both him and the box back to Black Crow Marsh:

"My dear friend, aren't you really considering joining our School? Truly, if you just nod your head, I'll immediately send you back to see my mentor, and I guarantee you'll enjoy the treatment of a formal mage! You know, even with my letter of recommendation, you'd only start as an apprentice at the city's Mage Tower..."

"But I'm really interested in Elementalist Mages..."

Thanks to @初9999999 for the 100 Qidian coins tip.

The ranking has fallen to 21st on the Light Novel New Releases chart, falling off the first page. The new collection additions today are so dismal... sobs...

Aren't the Necromancer and his cat both very cute!

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