No! I don't want to be a Super Necromancer!

Damien Bloodbane didn't flinch. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, eyes flicking across the spatial weave in front of him. It was dense. Complex. A spell that could freeze a wyvern in flight.

"Hmm. Not bad," he murmured inwardly. "A classic mana-lock. Triple layered. Compression ward with a reinforced containment shell. Should hold most people."

He reached into the air, fingers tracing an invisible symbol only he could feel. His mana shifted. Twisted.

"Mana runes to embody specific attributes. I wonder if it'll work."

Damien Bloodbane's eyes narrowed as he carefully shaped his mana into a crude ghost-shaped rune. It shimmered faintly in front of his chest before sinking into his body.

Immediately, he felt a ripple pass through him.

The sensation was bizarre.

It was like dipping into cold mist. His body lightened. His steps lost weight. His reflection blurred.

He smiled.

"Ethereal mode," he thought. "Not bad."

And then—

He sauntered forward, straight through the layered spell like it wasn't even there.

To the generals, it looked like he had just walked through a wall of light without flinching. No disruption. No pushback. No visible spellcasting.

Just a calm, casual stroll.

The room fell completely silent.

General Maru spun in a circle, flailing his arms at empty air. "Did I cast it wrong?! That was a triple-layered mana lock!"

"You've been practicing that spell for fifty years!" General Liang snapped, his beard practically bristling with outrage. "How could it possibly fail?!"

"I don't know!" General Maru barked. "Maybe the boy snuck in a counter-spell—no, wait. I know what happened. One of you old fossils tampered with my spell!"

"Oh please," General Riki scoffed. "Your formations are so outdated I'm shocked they don't come with a museum plaque."

"Oh? That so?" General Maru's mustache twitched dangerously. "Then let's see you do better, relic!"

Without hesitation, they both cast on each other.

Twin arrays of glowing runes spiraled into the air like constellations—sharp, elegant, and terrifyingly refined.

General Maru's formation erupted with elemental force, while General Riki's retaliatory weave shimmered with spatial precision.

The spells clashed in a brilliant collision of pure magic and instantly collapsed into perfect nullification. No light. No sound. Not even the scent of mana.

It was terrifyingly clean.

"Near S-rank," General Xian Fei muttered, nodding in approval. "Perfectly functioning, no tampering for sure."

"You two undeads have actually improved," General Hong Fei said with a grunt. "I haven't seen such a surgical exchange since the East River Tournament of '22."

"And we blew up a mountain during that one," Riki added proudly.

The group fell into nostalgic silence for a moment, basking in the memory of the good old times.

Then they remembered what they were doing.

They turned to the center of the room where Damien had been.

"…He walked through all of that like he was on a Sunday stroll," General Liang whispered.

"Maybe he's immune?"

"Maybe he dispelled it?"

"I think he phased between the mana nodes?"

"HE DID WHAT?!"

"…Did anyone get his Chronolink number?" General Riki asked hopefully.

A long pause.

"No."

"Nope."

"I thought you had it."

"I thought YOU had it!"

General Maru's face turned an alarming shade of purple. His mustache curled like it was preparing to strangle someone.

"PUT UP THE DAMN BOUNTY NOTICE AGAIN!" he roared.

A beat.

"And double the reward if he brings back coffee!"

"Yes sir!" someone saluted from the kitchen.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Welcoming Party of Pearl Institute had begun.

The entrance of the school was overflowing with people. Sleek, high-end cars lined the streets, each more extravagant than the last, and the entire area buzzed with youthful excitement.

Male seniors had turned out in full force, practically vibrating with anticipation. Their sharp, eager eyes scanned the incoming crowd like heat-seeking missiles, and the moment they spotted a promising target, they struck without hesitation.

Beautiful new students were arriving by the dozens, and in the world of love and war, it was first-come, first-served. With that in mind, countless seniors had donned their best outfits, practiced their smoothest lines, and signed up as "helpful volunteers" offering campus tours.

Among the chaos, the air glittered with mana.

A few show-off mana awakened students couldn't resist flexing their abilities.

A fire-type casually lit his cigarette using a floating spark shaped like a miniature phoenix.

A water-element student waved his hand and conjured a cooling mist over a group of girls who immediately giggled in appreciation.

One guy even levitated slightly above the crowd, pretending to adjust a banner, but mostly just trying to be seen.

In the midst of this magical, flirtatious chaos stood Damien Bloodbane and Fatty, completely ignored by everyone like background NPCs in someone else's love story.

There were three undeniable stars at the Pearl Institute welcome party, and the room tilted toward them like flowers bending to sunlight.

The first was Ji Chen, a quiet, brooding young man from Shanghai. He stood near one of the tall windows, arms folded, his drink untouched. Pale-skinned and sharp-featured, with dark hair that curled slightly at the edges and fox-like eyes that flicked through the crowd like he was dissecting a battlefield. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. A quiet radius of girls lingered around him—close enough to be seen in his orbit, far enough not to annoy him. They whispered amongst themselves.

"Is that really Ji Chen?"

"I heard his family practically owns the Port of Ningbo."

"My cousin said his mana control is so precise he can cut through silk with wind magic and not ruffle the threads."

He was the heir to the Ji Consortium—a financial juggernaut that practically ran half of coastal China behind the scenes. His silence spoke louder than most speeches.

The second was Jennifer Aquafrost.

She stood beneath the massive crystal chandelier in the center of the ballroom, cool and composed in her white and silver Aquafrost clan uniform. Her silver hair was tied back in a simple ribbon, her expression unreadable, eyes calm like a still winter lake.

"She's from the direct Aquafrost line, right?"

"Ice Queen incarnate. Beautiful, terrifying, and not even trying."

"My brother lost to her in the national dueling tournament. He still cries when it snows."

The Aquafrosts were famous for their elemental purity and elite combat lineage. They rarely mingled, but when they did, it was never without purpose.

The third star burned brightest. Zhao Rui. With his bronzed skin, windswept brown hair, and impossibly easy smile, he moved through the party like he owned it. Laughter followed him wherever he went, and when he spoke, the crowd leaned in.

"Ah, no no, that wasn't me. That was my cousin. I just watched him blow up the dummy. I swear."

"Wait, did you see his spell form just now? That was almost B ranked in strength!"

"I'd marry him just for that laugh, honestly."

He was Zhao Rui, the favored son of the Zhao Dynasty Group, a sprawling conglomerate with military contracts, security divisions, and enough political backing to place their children wherever they pleased.

His attention drifted often, but it always circled back to Jennifer Aquafrost, like a satellite pulled by gravity.

Their groups mingled boisterously in the middle of the room. Smiles were exchanged. Eyes lingered. Nobody knew what the outcome would be. But everyone knew it mattered.

In the corner, far from the flash of cameras and ego, Damien Bloodbane sipped quietly from his punch, his gaze lazily drifting over the crowd.

To everyone else, this was a normal party.

But to him, thanks to his system, there was another layer.

In his mind's eye, he could see the strength of each and every individual in the room.