If skeletons could show fatigue, Ludwig would have had deep bags under his eyes. But, thanks to the slime skin he wore over his skeletal frame, nothing showed on his face, even though his mind felt like it was about to burst. He had read through all the notes his classmate had given him, leaving no page untouched.
For anyone else, the task would have required immense focus and countless hours of concentration. But Ludwig wasn’t anyone else. His undead stamina, paired with his innate genius for absorbing knowledge, allowed him to read and comprehend everything in a single night without needing to rest.
However, the experience wasn’t as smooth as he’d hoped. The notes were chaotically organized, jumping randomly from subject to subject. One page would discuss Magic Theory, only to leap suddenly into Alchemy, then back to Dark Art History, and finally, curses—all with no logical flow. Still, Ludwig’s sharp mind was able to piece together a pattern, however erratic it was.
“This girl has extreme ADHD,” Ludwig muttered under his breath as he finally closed the notebook. Despite the disorganization, he had gained valuable insights, even if they had come at the cost of a nearly shattered mind.
He glanced out the window. “It’s morning already…” The pale sunlight trickled into his room, signaling the start of a new day. He checked the nearby clock. Class was about to begin.
Today’s lesson was in Black Magic Reversal, a course that taught students not how to use dark magic, but how to dispel or neutralize it. The Academy no longer taught the black arts, but it did provide its students with the tools to counteract and survive against them—a necessity in this world where dark magic still lurked.
Ludwig stood, tucking the notebook into his ring, and exited the room. He walked through the dim corridors of the Academy, half-expecting Bulgasal to swoop down and accompany him, but the raven was nowhere in sight.
“I guess he’s back with the headmaster,” Ludwig muttered, continuing on his way.
He was aware of the mistake he had made the previous day. Exposing himself to his peers as a commoner had been a tactical error, one he wouldn’t repeat. The Academy was a shark tank, and nobles liked to toy with those they considered weak. Without a powerful family to back him, Ludwig was already a target.
And right on cue, as soon as he stepped out of the dormitory, three young men appeared, blocking his path. Ludwig recognized two of them—they were the same students who had tormented another unfortunate commoner the moment Ludwig arrived at the Academy.
“Well, well,” sneered the leader of the group, his blonde hair shimmering in the sunlight. His voice dripped with arrogance. “Another commoner. You lot really are endless, aren’t you?”
His oversized companion grunted in agreement, while the skinnier one to his right smirked with poorly veiled contempt. All three of them wore robes of finer quality than Ludwig’s, and the insignias on their uniforms marked them as nobility.
“Nobles…” Ludwig thought to himself, bracing for the inevitable confrontation.
“Do you have business with me?” Ludwig asked, his voice calm.
“I don’t like the tone of your voice, commoner,” the blonde noble spat, his eyes narrowing. He stepped forward, reaching out as if to grab Ludwig by the neck. “When I speak, you—”
{You’re about to enter combat!}
Without thinking, Ludwig muttered the word, “Exhaust.”
A sickly, slithering aura spread from Ludwig’s form, washing over the three nobles like a wave of nausea. The leader collapsed to his knees, gasping as his stamina drained away in an instant. His companions weren’t spared either; both stumbled, their faces turning pale as they struggled to remain upright.
The notification that appeared before Ludwig surprised him.
{You have applied the skill [Exhaust] with decent proficiency!}
{You have learned the Spell [Exhaust]}
[You have used one of your spell slots. Remaining Spell Slots: 2]
[Exhaust]: Immediately drain a portion of your opponent’s stamina. The percentage of exhaustion increases with proficiency and the element of surprise.
Ludwig looked down at the three young men, who were now writhing on the ground, struggling to catch their breath. Their faces were twisted in pain, their energy completely sapped.
Ludwig didn’t waste a moment. He turned on his heel and made a quick escape, heading toward the study hall, his mind buzzing with thoughts.
“That spell from the notes… I didn’t expect it to work like this. Quite powerful.”
The incident confirmed a suspicion he had developed while studying the notes. Last night’s study session had been grueling, and he hadn’t been sure whether the information would be useful. But now, after applying what he’d learned, Ludwig realized just how valuable the notebook was. This Academy really was an incredible place for learning—both in magic and combat.
And all it had taken was one night of study for Ludwig to cast his first spell.
But as he pondered the notifications, a distinction dawned on him—he had learned a spell, not a skill.
There was a key difference between the two.
Skills were things one could learn by practice, through physical repetition or from a Skill Book. Once learned, a skill became ingrained in both the mind and soul, requiring no further thought. It was a passive ability that could be activated with ease.
Spells, however, were True Magic. Spells had to be understood, learned, and deliberately applied. They required focus, knowledge, and an understanding of the inner workings of mana. It wasn’t enough to just go through the motions; you had to comprehend the process from start to finish.
For example, the Skill [Fireball] learned from a grimoire was simple. You touched the book, absorbed the knowledge, and the skill was yours. It would cost you, say, twenty mana to cast a basic fireball. Simple, effective, but not very powerful.
On the other hand, casting the Spell [Fireball] involved understanding the origin of mana, shaping it into flame, creating combustion, and releasing it. It required calculation and focus, but the result was far more powerful. The spell might only cost ten mana, and the fireball it produced would be twice as destructive as the one from a skill.
That was why true mages were respected and feared in this world. And that was why Ludwig had never been able to replicate Van Dijk’s black flames. He had seen the black flames in action, but he hadn’t understood the process behind them.
Skill books are created by mages who learned the Spell by heart to an incredible degree. And were able to summarize the extent of their knowledge and condense it into an instantaneous page that can be learned by touch. Basically, this means anyone with deep enough pockets can learn every spell in the world.
But the reason no one is doing that is pretty simple—lack of Wisdom, Mana, stamina or even health at points. Each skill would require a different cost.
For the mages, without sufficient mana one cannot simply just spam cast skills, and some would require an incredible amount of mana that normal people cannot use them.
And the purpose of skills is simple, to supplement instead of being the main ability.
As Ludwig hurried down the hall toward his next class, his mind raced with new realizations. He had finally begun to grasp the difference between magic circles, spells, and skills. The notebook, scattered as it was, had given him just enough knowledge to start piecing together the foundation of magic.
It was an exhilarating thought—one night of study had brought him this far. What else could he learn if he dedicated more time to his studies? How much more powerful could he become?
But for now, his focus needed to shift to his next class: Black Magic Reversal. He pushed open the doors to the classroom, his mind already buzzing with anticipation.
He was just beginning to understand this world, and the more he learned, the more he realized there was no limit to what he could achieve.
This was only the beginning.
