Necromancy Summoning

Mu Chen listened intently, firmly committing every point Electrolux made to memory: the construction of the contract, the output frequency of spiritual power, and the conversion path of soul power.

Necromancy is fundamentally different from the soul skill system on the Douluo Continent; it does not rely on soul rings, but rather on the fusion of spiritual power and death energy.

This energy is extremely thin on the Douluo Continent, but in this Undead Half-Plane, it is an inexhaustible resource.

"Then, let us first attempt to summon a basic Undead Skeleton Soldier. Use your spiritual power as a tether to pierce the spatial barrier and imprint your will onto the nearest undead creature. Remember, do not use brute force; use your will to suppress it. Undead creatures only recognize the strong. The firmer you are, the more submissive they become. If you show even a hint of hesitation, it will backlash against you."

Mu Chen stood up, took a deep breath of the gray air, and began to circulate his spiritual power.

His spiritual power was at a top-tier level among his peers. As a transmigrator, his soul was inherently tougher than that of the natives, and combined with years of cultivating the Mysterious Heaven Skill and the Purple Demon Eye, the breadth of his Sea of Consciousness far exceeded that of soul masters at his level.

At this moment, he condensed his spiritual power into an invisible thread, spreading it outward from himself.

He sensed it quickly. The nearest Undead Skeleton Soldier was less than fifty meters away, hiding behind a rock half a person's height, its skeletal fingers gripping a rusted iron sword as it peered toward him with hollow eye sockets.

That cluster of ghostly green soul fire flickered in the skeleton's sockets, carrying a sense of vigilance and hostility. It sensed the aura of an intruder, but at the same time, it felt something emanating from that intruder that made it fearful.

It was the spatial imprint of Electrolux, the mark of the original master of the Undead Half-Plane.

Mu Chen did not give the skeleton soldier much time to hesitate.

The thread of spiritual power shot out, precisely sinking into the skeleton's eye sockets and piercing directly into that cluster of ghostly green soul fire.

The skeleton soldier let out a silent shriek, its entire frame trembling violently, and the iron sword scraped against the rock, creating a harsh, grating noise.

It tried to resist, its soul fire flickering wildly as it attempted to expel the invading spiritual power.

Mu Chen increased his force.

His will imprint slammed down, carrying the spiritual pressure of a level 45 Soul Ancestor.

The skeleton soldier's resistance collapsed like paper under that pressure; the soul fire trembled and shrank into a ball, then slowly calmed down, shifting from hostile ghostly green to submissive pale green.

The contract was established.

"Come here," Mu Chen said.

The skeleton soldier turned stiffly and clattered over.

Its gait was clumsy, as if it might fall apart at any moment, but those pale green soul fires remained steadily fixed on Mu Chen, submissive and loyal.

It stopped three paces in front of Mu Chen, knelt on one knee, and lowered its bald skull.

"Not bad," Electrolux's voice carried a hint of approval. "To suppress the target so quickly on your first summon, your spiritual power is even stronger than I estimated. This skeleton soldier is yours now; it will unconditionally obey any order you give. You can make it fight, make it self-destruct, or make it stand in place for ten thousand years without it showing a shred of hesitation. This is the terrifying nature of necromancy. We have no issues with morale or loyalty; all undead creatures are extensions of the master's will."

Mu Chen looked at the skeleton soldier kneeling before him and remained silent for a moment. Then he raised his head, his gaze sweeping toward the shadowy skeletal figures in the distant mist, a deep, dark light flashing in his blue eyes.

"One is not enough," he said.

Electrolux was stunned. "What are you trying to do?"

Mu Chen did not answer. He refocused his spiritual power, this time not attacking with a single thread, but splitting his spiritual power into dozens of threads and spreading them in all directions simultaneously.

Dozens of targets were locked onto at once—those skeleton soldiers hiding behind rocks, wandering the wasteland, or standing idly by the dried-up riverbed. Dozens of ghostly green soul fires were marked simultaneously on his perception map, arranged like a dense field of light points.

Electrolux's voice rose several notches. "Kid, are you trying to get yourself killed? Summoning so many undead creatures at once will cause the spiritual load to make you faint on the spot! Even if you are a level 45 Soul Ancestor, spiritual power has its limits."

Mu Chen ignored him.

Dozens of will imprints slammed down simultaneously.

The skeleton soldiers let out silent wails, and dozens of soul fires trembled violently at the same instant.

Mu Chen's spiritual power was like a wide-cast net, covering them all before pulling tight. A powerful spiritual backlash rebounded from every imprinted target, and dozens of tiny resistances converged into a significant impact, crashing straight into his Sea of Consciousness.

Mu Chen groaned, his brow feeling as if it had been pricked by a red-hot iron needle.

Then his will suppressed them. He did not break them one by one, but crushed them all with the power of his entire Sea of Consciousness, sweeping over them like a tide swallowing pebbles on a beach, crushing all resistance indiscriminately.

Dozens of soul fires shifted from ghostly green to pale green in the same instant.

Dozens of skeleton soldiers stepped out from their hiding places, the clattering sound of their bones colliding merging into one.

They walked to Mu Chen and knelt on one knee in unison, dozens of rusted iron swords thrust into the black earth like a crooked forest of tombstones.

Electrolux fell silent.

On that aged face within the gray light, the curve of the lips shifted from approval to a complex emotion that was hard to define.

The silence lasted for a long time, then the old voice sounded again. This time, it did not sound like a teacher critiquing a student, but rather like someone stating a fact he himself found hard to believe: "This spiritual power of yours, combined with your foundation of soul power, makes you uniquely gifted for learning necromancy. You summoned dozens of skeleton soldiers in one breath just now; although you took a shortcut by using my spatial imprint to help suppress their resistance, being able to achieve this much is enough to make me look at you in a new light."

Mu Chen did not stop. He walked to the group of kneeling skeleton soldiers and reached out to press his hand on the skull of the nearest one.

The touch was cold and rough, the surface of the bone covered in fine cracks—scars left by time.

"Continue. I haven't reached my limit yet."

Electrolux did not stop him. The Necromancer Holy Mage understood now: this blue-haired, blue-eyed boy was no ordinary apprentice; he did not need a step-by-step teaching method.

What he needed was to find his own limits and then use all his strength to surpass them.

Mu Chen closed his eyes again.

This time, he expanded the coverage of his spiritual power to its limit.

Five hundred meters, one thousand meters, fifteen hundred meters. The larger the range of perception, the faster the consumption of spiritual power. He could feel his Sea of Consciousness gradually drying up, and his originally full soul power was also accelerating in its depletion.