"You contracted a level-three Dark Warrior? You've got good luck, kid." Stutzman had examined Jason and confirmed that he could indeed use the power of death. That meant Jason hadn't lied; his current strength simply wasn't enough to sustain a passage to the Netherworld through which he could summon a level-three undead.
"Don't get too proud, though. Your sister Lucy was even luckier." Stutzman pointed out the window.
Jason went over to the window. Lucy was outside "walking her undead," an eagle-type undead.
After death, magical beasts generally retained their original forms. Since magical beasts themselves all had elemental affinity, they became undead in "zombie-like" magical beast form.
Of course, that didn't mean there were no "skeletal beast undead." After all, there were plenty of ordinary beasts, such as tigers and leopards, as well as poultry and livestock. They had souls but little affinity, and the Netherworld treated them all alike.
The zombie eagle Lucy had summoned appeared to be a level-two undead. Lucy had already studied magic, and her spiritual power had long since reached level two, so summoning it hadn't been difficult.
As for why Lucy was considered luckier than Jason, among undead below the Saint-level, those that could fly naturally had an advantage over other undead. This zombie eagle, in particular, should also have had elemental affinity when it was alive.
Jason, however, remained calm. Summoning undead was only a means of protecting himself early on. He was still determined to follow the path of a warrior and reach the Saint-level first.
With his knowledge of the original story, Jason certainly didn't intend to stop at a mere Saint-level.
"Now that you've summoned your undead, go back and rest. Tomorrow I'll teach you how to build an undead army," Stutzman said. "Oh, and remember not to make a big fuss about it. Undead will still cause a commotion out in the world."
A contracted undead was merely a link to the Netherworld. To summon undead on a large scale, one first needed to have the contracted undead subdue other, weaker undead. Only then could one be said to have mastered the spell Undead Summoning.
Jason gave a slight bow and left the classroom.
When Jason left, only two children remained in the classroom.
Jason had taken longer to contract his undead. Such things depended entirely on luck; as long as he ultimately contracted an undead with relatively high potential, it was a good thing. Time wasn't an issue.
Jason didn't enter the Netherworld again that night. He needed to meditate to rapidly increase his spiritual power.
After all, an undead mage would channel some of his spiritual power to his contracted undead. That was also the main reason contracted undead were willing to work for undead mages.
Low-level undead couldn't cultivate and had little intelligence. Only after reaching level seven would they awaken a method of actively strengthening their Soulfire. Thus, contracting a Necromancer was an opportunity for a low-level undead to soar to great heights, and also the basic condition for an undead to agree to a contract with a Necromancer.
Stutzman had instructed them beforehand to spend some time meditating on the night they contracted their undead, giving the contracted undead a taste of the benefits. That way, the undead would cooperate when they built their armies later.
When class began the next day, all seven children looked listless. Clearly, they had all stayed up late meditating.
Fortunately, the Rhein Imperial Family had money to spare. For the past few days, it had provided "mind-clearing potions" every day to keep the children's spiritual power replenished.
"You have all contracted your own 'personal undead.' For the next week, I'll supervise you as you learn to build undead armies. After that, you'll move to other classes to continue your studies," Stutzman said.
The seven children looked at one another. They felt no particular attachment to this teacher, especially since his attitude hadn't been very good. Still, for the sake of appearances, they said, "Thank you for your efforts, Teacher Stutzman."
Stutzman nodded and began explaining. "Undead naturally submit to the strong. As long as a powerful undead can seize a small portion of a weaker undead's undead fire, it can hold power over that undead's life and death.
"Of course, there are certain limits to this 'control.' For example, it can only use the other's fear of death to command it; it cannot restrict its thoughts. There is also a limit to how many it can control, which depends on the strength of its Soulfire. Of course, once an undead has been subdued, it can go on to subdue other undead, and so on, until a vast undead legion has been built.
"A contracted undead that has made a contract with an undead mage can subdue far more undead than an ordinary one, so undead mages' undead legions tend to be quite powerful in the Netherworld.
"At your current level, the undead you encounter will have little awareness, so there's no need to worry about your undead secretly plotting a rebellion. What you need to do is command your personal undead to conquer other undead until it reaches its limit. Remember not to rely on brute force alone. Low-level undead are muddleheaded; use your brains, and you may get unexpected results."
The seven children began contacting the Netherworld, and the classroom immediately filled with the power of death.
Lumba the Dark Warrior had always lived in a daze. He couldn't remember how he had come to be, nor did he know how long he had been in the Netherworld.
Jason guessed that Lumba had probably not been born long ago. Given his aptitude, he could have reached his current level in just a few months by following his instincts and devouring the soul fires of other undead.
Lumba, however, thought the "ghost fire" he had contracted was quite good. Yesterday, he had clearly felt himself grow stronger. He didn't need to risk fighting other undead; he could grow stronger just by staying where he was. It felt great.
But since the other party had given him benefits, he had to do something in return.
So, under Jason's direction, Lumba went to a weathered rock, where he was told to "lie down" and "hide"-very strange actions.
Lumba had never "lain down" before. The way undead thought, one simply kept walking forward, turned when encountering something without a Soulfire, and went over to chop at anything with a Soulfire before eating it. If one couldn't win, one got eaten.
Lumba had yet to meet anything he couldn't beat, so he hadn't been eaten.
"This area should be a gathering place for weak undead. You're not strong enough to sweep through it yet. The undead on the right are more scattered, so kill a few first and strengthen yourself. There's a zombie leopard straight ahead. Once you're stronger, try to subdue it. Your offense and defense are strong, but you're too slow. This zombie leopard can make up for that weakness. Finally, sweep through this place and absorb all the Soulfires."
The ghost fire chattered on, but Lumba didn't understand much. He only knew it wanted him to go right and chop up some undead first, then go straight ahead and chop up some more.
Fine. He was going to chop up undead anyway. Since the ghost fire wanted him to go right first, he'd go right.
Holding the bone sword he had carried in his hand since his birth, Lumba climbed down from the boulder and headed right.
"It has a Soulfire. Chop it!" Lumba spotted a skeletal dog and charged straight at it.
In Jason's view, the skeletal dog had probably been an ordinary guard dog in life. It was very weak, with a Soulfire that hadn't even reached level one. It was most likely a cross between a magical beast and a domestic animal.
That was only natural. After all, poultry and livestock vastly outnumbered humans, and ordinary beasts also far outnumbered magical beasts.
As expected, Lumba struck the skeletal dog, which relied on instinct to bite, and severed its skull from its cervical spine with a single swing. Then he reached in, pulled out its Soulfire, and sucked it in.
"Keep going." Lumba's Soulfire hadn't changed much.
"That way. That zombie turtle was probably a level-one magical beast when it was alive."
"Oh." Lumba changed direction and found the zombie turtle, then struck it with his sword and absorbed its Soulfire.
Judging by its appearance, this turtle was probably a farm-raised magical beast when it was alive, Jason thought.
Level-one and level-two magical beasts posed little danger, especially the more docile ones. Some had meat and hides far better than those of ordinary beasts, so raising level-one and level-two magical beasts was common in material planes.
"Go forward. There's a skeletal bull with a level-two Soulfire. It looks like it relied on its huge size to devour quite a few undead. You should be strong enough to beat it."
"Oh, keep going." Lumba followed the instructions. "I get Soulfires to eat when I listen to this ghost fire. Heh, heh-heh."