Deus Necros

{You have learned the Spell [Galvanize]}

{Your mastery over the spell [Galvanize] has increased to Amateur}

{You have exceeded the limit of spells you can learn.}

{Your understanding of spells is enough to bypass the spell limit.}

[Congratulations! You have successfully cleared the Quest: Spell Mastery.]

[You have obtained the Achievement: Spell Mastery.]

[Spell Mastery]: You are no longer bound by your inherent ability to learn spells. You may learn as many spells as you can, provided you understand their basic functionality. However, the potency of each spell will depend on your Wisdom. The higher your Wisdom, the more powerful and faster your spell proficiency increases.

Ludwig’s breath caught in his chest—a chest devoid of life, yet one that still carried the weight of his ambition. His skeletal hand flexed reflexively as the notifications sank in.

“This… changes everything,” he murmured to himself. A newfound excitement bubbled in his hollow form. The system’s limitations on spell learning had been a looming shadow, one that now seemed banished by his growing understanding. But the victory came with an immediate realization:

“I’ll need more Wisdom to make the most of this. And for that… I need souls.”

His enthusiasm dimmed momentarily. Acquiring souls wasn’t easy. The dungeons like the Lizardman trial provided a rich harvest, but he couldn’t rely on those regularly. Killing students, while theoretically an option, was a moral boundary he wasn’t willing to cross—not to mention the paltry value of their unbloodied souls.

“Monsters,” Ludwig concluded. “Monsters are my only viable path forward.”

With his resolve set, he turned his attention to the third book on the desk.

[Taint]

The book’s opening pages were stark, the first line written boldly in crimson ink:

“This is a Curse. It is forbidden by the laws of Lufondal. Use it, and you may find yourself at the gallows.”

Ludwig’s eyes scanned the page, his mind racing as he read on:

[Taint] is a harmful curse that diminishes the resistances of its target. Physical, magical, and even infernal resistances are reduced, leaving the afflicted vulnerable to devastating attacks. [Taint] is particularly effective when paired with necromantic spells, such as [Corpse Explosion]. The curse spreads like a miasma upon the death of its host, potentially affecting nearby enemies in a chain reaction of devastation.”

The concept was enticing: a tool for whittling down defenses, ensuring maximum impact for future attacks. But the warning etched into the margins was equally daunting.

“This curse is dangerous, not just for its effects but for its implications. Once cast, its miasmic energy leaves a trace—a beacon that skilled mages can detect. Use it with extreme caution.”

Ludwig frowned, weighing the risk. The potential was undeniable, but the consequences of being discovered were severe. Necromantic spells were already forbidden, and this one screamed trouble.

Still, he knew he couldn’t afford to overlook it. The versatility it offered could be the edge he needed in a desperate situation. He decided to proceed, knowing full well he might regret it.

The spell required an infusion of [Necromantic Energy], something Ludwig wasn’t sure he possessed or could even generate. The instructions outlined a complex chant, paired with a deliberate release of miasmic mana into the air. Ludwig practiced the chant silently, committing it to memory.

{You have learned the Spell [Taint].}

A flicker of satisfaction crossed his mind, though it was tinged with uncertainty. He lacked the means to test it—yet. But the knowledge itself was a victory, and he turned to the next book.

[Flame Bringer]

Opening the fourth book, Ludwig noticed something unusual:

[Book Description Adjusted by {Necros’ Blessing}]

This line immediately caught his attention. The system had reinterpreted the spell’s description, providing clarity in a way the denizens of Ikos wouldn’t have. The text began to shift, rearranging itself into a format Ludwig could easily digest.

“This is not a spell but a training method. [Flame Bringer] allows the caster to temporarily switch their mana pool to a specialized Flame Pool. During this period, fire spells no longer consume mana but instead draw from the Flame Pool.”

Ludwig leaned forward, intrigued. The method seemed advantageous—but as he read further, the risks became apparent.

“While active, [Flame Bringer] increases the potency of fire spells but inflicts the caster with [Burning Flesh]. This debuff amplifies fire damage dealt but simultaneously decreases the caster’s resistance to heat. Furthermore, the Flame Pool has a strict limit: once depleted, any remaining percentage of the pool is directly converted into damage to the caster’s health.”

The example provided chilled him:

“If a caster depletes 80% of the Flame Pool, the remaining 20% is taken as damage to maximum health once the spell ends. This risk makes [Flame Bringer] a double-edged sword.”

Ludwig whistled softly. The spell—or rather, the method—was as dangerous as it was powerful. It promised a surge of destructive potential but demanded caution and precision.

“This could kill me faster than my enemies,” he muttered. “But if used right… it could also save me.”

The fact that Necros’ Blessing had rewritten the description reassured him. The system’s game-like simplifications gave him a clearer understanding of its mechanics, something the original Ikos mages would never have.

He decided to hold off practicing it for now. The risks were too great without a controlled environment.

[Frenzied Spirits]

The final book seemed even older than the others, its pages yellowed and its text faded. The air around it seemed to hum faintly, as if the knowledge within was alive.

Ludwig opened it carefully, his skeletal fingers tracing the lines of text.

“Call forth the echoes of the departed. [Frenzied Spirits] summons a swarm of spectral entities that attack indiscriminately, feeding on the mana and vitality of anything in their vicinity. Their power scales with the number of targets present, growing more frenzied with each additional entity. However, the caster must maintain control, lest the spirits turn on them as well.”

The spell required a deep understanding of spiritual energy and control—a level of finesse Ludwig wasn’t sure he possessed yet. The warnings were clear:

“Should your concentration waver, the spirits will break free, and the first target will always be the caster.”

The prospect of losing control sent a shiver through his bones. But the potential… a swarm of spirits feeding on an enemy’s mana and health? It could turn the tide of any battle.

{You have learned the Spell [Frenzied Spirits].}

Exhausted but exhilarated, Ludwig closed the final book. His mind buzzed with the new possibilities each spell offered. The night stretched on, and Ludwig knew one thing for certain: he had taken a monumental step forward in his journey.

“I’ll need more souls,” he whispered, his hands resting on the books. “And soon.”