Finished ahead of time

The next day, Han Shuo was jolted awake by a heavy bag of garbage landing on him.

In the middle of a pleasant dream, Han Shuo felt as though a mountain had come crashing down on him. He scrambled out of bed with a start and rubbed his eyes. Seeing a heavy bag of garbage on the bed, he immediately realized that someone must have tossed garbage through the Supply Storeroom's little window again.

Muttering curses, he kicked the garbage bag off the bed. With a thud, it rolled toward the door. Han Shuo was about to bury his head and go back to sleep when it occurred to him that if someone had thrown in a garbage bag, it must already be fairly late.

He pushed open the window and looked outside. Sure enough, the sun was already high in the sky. Silently sighing that practicing his Demonic Cultivation Art yesterday had exhausted him so much that he had overslept today, he got out of bed and was about to hurry outside when he suddenly remembered yesterday's dream. In it, the little skeleton seemed to have helped him teach Fitch a lesson. Remembering how his last dream had come true, Han Shuo felt a jolt of alarm and hurriedly looked toward Little Wood's wooden tub.

Inside the little wooden tub, the little skeleton had his two jet-black arm bones hooked around its rim. His left leg bone was crossed over his right, swinging back and forth. He looked as though he were enjoying a sauna, utterly carefree and at ease.

Seeing that he was still in the little wooden tub, Han Shuo let out a sigh of relief. After a moment's thought, he got up and pushed the tub beneath the bed, blocked the space beneath it with a garbage bag, and only then opened the door to begin another day's work.

"Hey, Brian, why are you only getting here now?" Jack was wiping down a stone statue beside the path when he spotted Brian from afar and greeted him with a smile.

Han Shuo glanced around and saw no students passing along the path. He knew classes must have started already. He really had gotten up late today.

"Oh, Fitch hit me on the head twice yesterday, and my head was all muddled, so I overslept!"

"Hehe!" Jack suddenly chuckled with delight at someone else's misfortune, then sidled up to Han Shuo furtively and whispered, "Brian, you don't need to be angry anymore. I heard some students talking on the way here this morning. Late last night, that Seven-Winged Little Skeleton that showed up before beat Fitch up. His face was all swollen!"

Han Shuo: "..."

So yesterday's dream really had happened after all. It just differed from what he had imagined: this time, the little skeleton had clearly moved much faster and finished the job long ago. No wonder the little skeleton had been lying in a distinctly different position in the tub this morning than he had last night.

"Huh, Brian, why aren't you saying anything? Are you just too happy? Haha, I bet you are. That Little Skeleton really is impressive. After Fitch was beaten awake, apparently all he saw at the end was those seven little wings flapping before the skeleton jumped out the window and made a clean getaway. Oh! Fitch lives on the fourth floor! He actually didn't smash into a pile of bones. That's unbelievable!"

Han Shuo gave two dry chuckles, feeling thoroughly pleased, and laughed along. "Well done! I really don't know who summoned that little skeleton, but he actually helped me get even. I've really been lucky lately!"

Over the next few days, no more misfortune befell Han Shuo, and no one came to practice magic on him. During these rare peaceful days, Han Shuo arrived outside the necromancy students' classroom early every morning, holding a broom as he eavesdropped on Gene's lectures.

Perhaps because the little skeleton had given him such a thrashing, Fitch did not attend classes over the next few days. Listening in every day as Gene explained magical knowledge, Han Shuo suddenly understood many things about magic that had previously puzzled him.

At night, Han Shuo first practiced the Mystic Ice Demon Flame Art, circulating his Demonic Essence little by little along its prescribed route toward his right palm and fingers. Each attempt brought searing pain, but over the past few days, he had managed to circulate his Demonic Essence almost as far as his wrist.

Han Shuo continued studying Necromancy Basics as usual, silently committing anything he did not understand to memory so he could listen for it when eavesdropping on Gene's lectures in the morning.

Now that Han Shuo's meals had improved, his body was receiving the nourishment it needed. Together with his practice of the Demonic Cultivation Art, this had led his originally frail body to begin developing some muscle without his noticing. His short frame also seemed to have grown a little taller, and there was a faint change in his overall bearing.

The necromancy students noticed Han Shuo's changes but attributed them all to his having gone mad and become a fool. No one paid him much attention, and Han Shuo was happy to enjoy the peace and freedom. Every day, he worked as usual while secretly learning magic and practicing the Demonic Cultivation Art, happily feeling the changes in his body.

"Endless darkness, become a Shatterbone Arrow and destroy everything before me according to my will. Bone arrow!" As the incantation ended, a sharp bone arrow suddenly formed in midair. Following Han Shuo's pointing finger, it flew toward a straw figure in front of him, only to abruptly change direction halfway there.

Crack!

The bone arrow suddenly shattered in midair. Judging by its trajectory, it had veered far off course and had not been heading toward the little figure woven from weeds at all.

Shaking his head, Han Shuo sighed softly. Understanding it is one thing; using it is another. He had been practicing this lowest-level Bone Arrow Magic near the grave all this time, but he failed every attempt. Either he could not summon it, its aim was far off, or the bone arrow shattered halfway to its target.

Han Shuo understood that successfully casting necromancy required repeated practice. Only through repeated practice could he master the knack and cast his spells successfully without any mistakes or oversights.

Every night over the past few days, Han Shuo first practiced his Demonic Cultivation Art for a while, then came to the grave where his "corpse" had once been dumped when the night was deep and quiet. Here, he secretly practiced necromancy. The little skeleton carried two bags of garbage, and after throwing them away, he obediently stayed motionless inside a grave.

Just as Han Shuo was silently considering what had gone wrong with his incantation, gestures, or use of Mental Power, he suddenly heard hurried footsteps in the distance. Startled, he quickly hid among a pile of rocks beside a nearby grave.

The graveyard was quite spacious and always quiet at night. Apart from Han Shuo occasionally coming to dump discarded magical materials, few people normally visited. Naturally, Han Shuo did not want anyone discovering that he was secretly practicing magic here, so he immediately hid upon hearing footsteps.

A moment later, a tall, middle-aged man with blue hair abruptly came into Han Shuo's view. His clothes were dyed crimson with blood, bloody froth spilled from his mouth, and he held a broadsword. Staggering and looking anxious, he stumbled over without watching where he was going, constantly glancing behind him.

Upon reaching the spot where Han Shuo had just been practicing necromancy, his body suddenly trembled. His steps faltered, and he fell. At that moment, he abruptly pulled a gray pouch from inside his clothes at his chest, hastily scraped at the soft ground twice, and stuffed the pouch into the soil. After smoothing the earth over with his hand, he climbed to his feet and kept running forward.

"Dylan, where else can you run?" A kindly voice came from afar. A black light flashed, and a thin old man with a benevolent face appeared behind the middle-aged man. He wore an amiable smile and gold-trimmed mage's robes. In his left hand, he held a Magic Staff set with three gemstones, red, yellow, and blue, which looked extremely valuable at a glance.

After this thin, kindly old mage appeared, a mass of deep cyan light flew swiftly over from afar. Once it arrived and stopped, the deep cyan light suddenly vanished, revealing a burly swordsman with powerful-looking muscles and a longsword at his side.

"Mr. Duke, what should we do with Dylan?" After arriving, the swordsman stood respectfully beside the mage and asked humbly.

The kindly old mage, Duke, furrowed his sparse eyebrows. Glancing at Dylan, who lay on the ground with bloody froth still spilling from his mouth, he sighed softly. "Poor Dylan. I'm afraid he's already beyond saving. He shouldn't have to keep suffering like this. Eric, give him a hand!"

"You are truly merciful, sir!" The Swordsman Eric offered this praise with a strange expression, then suddenly shot toward the still-running Dylan like lightning. Han Shuo saw only a flash of deep cyan light streak through the air before blood sprayed from Dylan's back, and he finally fell motionless to the ground.

Eric put away his longsword and immediately crouched down to rummage over Dylan's body. His expression gradually grew ugly. Finally, he stood and told Duke helplessly, "Mr. Duke, it's no longer on him!"

"How is that possible!" Duke exclaimed in surprise, his expression changing slightly. With a wave of his Magic Wand, Dylan's corpse suddenly floated into the air before him. Duke recited a Wind Element Magic spell, and several sharp wind blades suddenly formed in midair. They whistled about, slicing Dylan's clothes apart.

Hidden behind the pile of rocks, Han Shuo saw everything clearly. When Eric had suddenly shot forward earlier, his longsword had blazed with deep cyan light. He was clearly already a high-level swordsman.

For such an Advanced Swordsman to treat Duke so respectfully meant that Duke's status or strength was even more formidable. This was Han Shuo's first time witnessing a killing, and his mind was in turmoil, his heart pounding rapidly.

"It really isn't on him!" Duke muttered to himself with a frown. Then, with a wave of his Magic Wand, Dylan's naked corpse was tossed to the ground like garbage.

Duke waved his Magic Wand again, and a powerful surge of Mental Power rushed toward Han Shuo. His body was involuntarily lifted into the air and sent flying toward Duke.

"Huh? How did you know I was there?" Han Shuo was panicking inside, and his words were even more frantic. Flailing his arms and legs in midair, he shouted and hollered.

"Hehe, what a sweet, innocent young man! Judging by your clothes, you seem to be from Babylon Academy of Magic and Martial Arts, don't you?" Duke gazed kindly at Han Shuo. As soon as he finished speaking, Han Shuo abruptly dropped from midair onto the ground.

"Yes, I'm a servant at Babylon Academy. I came here to throw away magical waste. I didn't see anything just now. Mm, it's getting late. You two keep chatting. I'll head back first."

Han Shuo got up from the ground and spoke with an innocent expression. He first took two unhurried steps toward Babylon Magic Academy, then abruptly picked up speed and ran with all his strength. These two are strange. They might do something to me. I'd better leave as soon as possible.

"Hehe, this young man is rather sly, too. Eric, see him off!" Behind Han Shuo, Duke chuckled and spoke kindly.

The instant Duke finished speaking, Han Shuo felt a powerful current of air rapidly closing in on him.