Adam stepped into a classroom where lighting reflected like a golden coat over the mist swirling between desks, their surfaces worn by the scratches of thousands of quills. Darkness gnawed at the corners of the room, making it seem as if a colossal beast had beaten them off.
He recognised this mist—eerie, mentally oppressive—though not as overwhelming as when he had crossed it years ago, it was indisputably the same one: the mist of the dead.
Obscured by its swirls, with only two green eyes shining through, a man stood behind what Adam recognised as a heavy desk, revealed by the knocks of a stack of parchments against the hard timber.
"To your seats," the man said, the mist parting to reveal the scarf tied around his jaw. But it did nothing to hide the burns that painted irregular patterns of sombre skin across his face.
Ten students nodded in acknowledgement as they sat together. Adam claimed an isolated corner without waiting for their usual scornful grimaces. Elbows on the table, he supported his chin with the back of his hands, waiting for Teacher Louis Sol Zevrin to begin his lesson about warding off and capturing souls.
Why capture them, though? It sounded quite troublesome compared to executing them. Well, perhaps for some unsavoury purposes, such as torture or enslavement... That felt wrong.
As a frown crept over his brow, Louis' declaration shattered his nascent confusion. "I won't welcome you to my class since you've chosen it yourselves." He turned toward the blackboard, mist condensing into chalk in his moving hand with exquisite timing—no wasted movement or pause, only fluid writing as he continued.
"Practice is the least important part of this lesson. Knowledge topples it. That's why we'll speak about history. Why and how ghosts came to be, why we capture them, and their impact on the world."
Adam watched the blackboard, now split in two. On the top-left side, Louis had underlined positive, while the right side was reserved for negative.
"Now, we'll fill these columns. But first, who can tell me where souls go after death?"
Clueless, Adam shook his head, then leaned forward, his features tensing.
On the other side of the class, a few students raised their hands tentatively. Among the group, he only recognised Elliot, the kid from Diane's class, and one of Quintella's friends.
At Louis' question, a fourteen-year-old boy rose from his seat. "Souls develop alongside bodies. When one dies, the other inexorably follows. I believe that souls become a source of fuel that helps the realm produce mana or life force. It's like a cycle: we absorb mana while alive, then return it with interest." He scratched his head. "Of course, souls might also just fade into nothingness."
Pupils constricted, Adam's breath caught as an icy shiver ran down his spine. He had seen Luna, Earth's consciousness, absorb mana from the carcasses of hundreds of millions of invaders. Even the potion that had increased Prometheus' strength was made from souls, which sparked their final disagreement.
He tapped a sweaty finger on his cheek. So that's how worlds renewed their energies... Disturbing. Logical. Hard to accept.
As he grappled with the new knowledge, Louis sighed wearily.
"Your explanation is as poetic as it is nonsensical," he said, slamming his burned hand on his desk, the sound like a steel plate crashing on a wall. "We're not here to discuss what you've read in your bedtime stories. We want facts supported by years of profound studies." ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝•𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾•𝘯𝘦𝘵
"What?" Adam's eyes widened. "That's not true?!"
"Of course not." Louis massaged his brow. "What in a soul would help in producing mana, and how many daily deaths would be required to sustain a realm of this size? This is ridiculous."
He shook his head, fingers moving to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Decomposing corpses, dead magic circuits, magical materials buried in the earth, ley lines, deep-sea vents, power from winds, and stars—the realm has an array of fuels to ensure its functioning even as it slumbers."
Adam rubbed his nape. That made much more sense—Luna drawing power from the beast cores and circuits of the carcasses. As for the souls, Luna likely wanted to use everything at her disposal to stabilise Prometheus' failing body. She had said it herself—a one-time sacrifice for survival.
But the answer also made him frown. Then, where did souls go?
He saw the other students lower their hands, frowning same as him.
"Think about necromancy," Louis hinted, and eyes began to light up.
Adam jerked his head back, realisation crashing onto him. He had seen it when Aurora sent teachers after him.
And a student confirmed it with a delighted voice. "They go to the Netherworld, teacher."
"We're finally advancing." Louis nodded. "Souls are pulled into the Netherworld by its overseer upon death."
A few hands rose, but dismissed the questions with a wave of his hand. "This entity is an enigma even to us, except for its ancient might and the fact that it never fails in its duty. Yet, we've learned to play around the loopholes in its rules." His voice grew heavy with meaning, less certain now, tinged with discomfort—or was it fear? "That, or it doesn't care about necromancers since they merely bring back fragmented echoes from its world. It could also be because in the end, most will end up there."
Blood drained from Adam's face, leaving it pale like a ghost. This was why a single glance from the overseer's avatar had frozen him like a lamb before the butcher knife. It was far too powerful, even more than Haldris and the three Dao ancestors—perhaps even more than Leviathan. Could he be on par with Luna?
The simple idea caused every bone in his body to tremble with the deafening thumps of his heart in a cacophony of undistilled horror. And he found no shame in it. Anyone not scared of that... thing was a fool beyond saving.
'Oh no...' His eyes widened enough for each vein to be visible. 'Elena... Gaston...' He passed a hand over his face, fingers digging into his cheeks. 'I agreed to accompany them to the Netherworld! Hell no! I'll delay it eternally if I have to, but I'm not going to that place!'