Tired Alexander watched as the city's inhabitants fought against their enemies. He saw that they were not fighting just for fun or out of boredom. They lived enclosed under this protective dome, which essentially made it a prison. Because of this, negativity and darkness accumulated within them.

Seeing this, Caesar allows almost everything, which gradually erases the old norms. For example, the prohibition on love between a parent and a child, which existed before but was condemned by others. Nuns are allowed to engage in carnal pleasures, even though they once took a vow of eternal innocence. Even with animals, this is permitted, but fortunately, normal animals have long since disappeared or become another group of mindless but dangerous fallen creatures.

Even now, Alexander cannot find significant differences between the fallen and the undead. Because at first glance, they are almost identical. But he knows that something more complex and terrible is happening inside the fallen. The soul is completely blackened and deprived of the ability to have reason, becoming undead and experiencing pain and torment. You can still regain your reason, to realize who you are again. But the fallen will never be able to do that.

Thinking of his daughter, Alexander experiences brief fits of horror that make him wonder: maybe the fallen can also think? His daughter's only smile makes him doubt Caesar's words. However, even if they can think again, he doesn't want his only daughter to suffer.

With a long sigh, Alexander watches as the city's residents vent their frustrations on the fallen. The mages, along with Gabriel, maintain the magical dome to prevent it from collapsing and giving the enemy a chance to enter the city. Most importantly, to keep the dirt from the outside world from entering this partially clean piece of land.

Raising his head, he looks at a ship where the Black Tooth sits, regaining his strength. He also fears that all this noise may attract other fallen and insane powerful beings who have not completely fallen.

Rising, Alexander prays for this battle to end as soon as possible, or he will have to give one woman to this pirate. Taking the swords in his hands, he bends his knees and fills them with his energy, making a huge leap to the Black Tooth's ship. A new round begins.

***

"Today, that's it! You learn quickly, and it pleases me. It's evident that you have an affection for death, and of course, it will reciprocate, as you've already embraced it," the old man says, feeling a smile as Vallynor awaits more.

"Immediately, a picture forms in Vallynor's mind of him having intercourse with a skeleton in black robes, and he wonders, who's doing what to whom?" A chill runs down his spine, and he quickly tries to rid himself of such thoughts.

"Tomorrow, I will tell you more about necromancers, after which we will part ways for a while. I can still teach you the basics. Hehe," the old man says, making a bow and bidding farewell, and Vallynor exits this world. Awakening, he looks around the room and hears the loud sounds. Understanding that the battle continues, he ignores the cries and gunfire, settles in comfortably, and takes a golden book in his hands.

Opening the book, he begins reading it from the very beginning and immediately notices some small changes in theory and practice. Fortunately, he can adapt to these changes. After reading the book, he understands how to further develop. He must train more and strengthen his body, filling his muscles with mana, which will eventually become a reservoir for storing energy. And when his muscles are fully filled with mana and hardened, he must merge them or otherwise interweave them, compressing them backward. As a result, his muscular body can become thin but strong again. And so, again and again, until he feels ready.

The mind must be created on the territory where his own temple will be built — a ziggurat. It doesn't matter; I'll call it a ziggurat. Therefore, the old method based on creating your own pool does not work. So, I will have to destroy it and rebuild the foundation from scratch. Fortunately, it was already half destroyed, and I couldn't fully restore it. After creating the foundation, I will need to study and accumulate knowledge, as well as accumulate mana within myself and align it with my needs. What will happen in the future with my knowledge will be decided for the ziggurat.

And lastly, the most challenging part is to create the foundations in the form of a platform for the soul. Then, runes should be inscribed on it using the souls of other beings. After that, I can use the powers of these beings. It's crucial that the inscribed runes do not conflict with each other. Fortunately, there are already several drawn diagrams here, composed of runes, with the soul of a time butterfly as the base. Now I need three more souls, that is, two more. These souls will become the substance and blood for my soul, enveloping it and becoming a vessel, preventing it from breaking. This will make it stronger and more robust.

Closing the book, he places it in his inventory and attempts to check his body, assuming a comfortable lotus position for meditation. Who would have thought that bald old men have been training correctly all this time, even without having magical powers? They can only live longer and sleep on prickly beds.

Closing his eyes, he tried to sense his body in the same way he did to see his soul and the runes on the platform. Some time passed, and at some point, he felt detached from his body. It was like the feeling of a pulse when you place your finger on a pulsating artery to determine the heart rate. This way, he could feel his body.

Immediately, he felt his heart, which, as it turned out, was beating, albeit very weakly. He thought that, being undead, it should be completely dead. But apparently, after receiving wounds, the body regenerates on its own. Even if Baba Yaga is responsible for it, who can't regenerate her own body and starts to decay if she doesn't consume the flesh of the living and their life energy or infuse the body with mana or other energy to sustain it and the flesh to prevent it from rotting, like vampires. Of course, most vampires seeking to maintain their external beauty end up being women, as the Old Man's stories revealed. Maybe it doesn't matter, but a woman remains a woman in every respect.

After the heart, he tried to feel his stomach, which was now empty. It was disconnected, and it also contained mana along with necrotic energy. Quickly returning the sensation to the heart to determine what energy was flowing through it... Mmm, emm. I can't understand. Both mana and necrotic energy flow through it. From what I know, necrotic energy is part of mana and should be a single entity. Inside, there should be only mana.

He didn't even bother examining his muscles and immediately opened his eyes. Lost in thought, he returned to the Necronomicon, where he encountered numerous necromancers who were shouting at each other. Several old men started fighting, hitting each other on the head with sticks. One of the old men, who still had flesh, struck with his stick as if he were a professional baseball player, with the skull of a lich serving as the ball, which was also an old man. Fortunately, one of the old men had taught him how to determine the age of necromancers.

Watching the lich's head fly, he opened his mouth and shouted:

"I will turn you into a chimera, you son of a b****!" - The lich's body ran after its head.

"Finally decided to show up?" - Behind Vallynor, Duke Grave spoke, observing the battle of the old men. He shook his head and carefully examined the visualized soul, even though it wasn't his own body. Entering this world as a soul only, the Necronomicon created a temporary body that copied the original. Because of this, Duke Grave felt that the young necromancer had become slightly stronger. Not in terms of accumulating power or anything like that but in terms of taking a step toward enlightenment and, apparently, toward all three paths.

Vallynor looked around, trying to find something. Noticing this, Duke Grave asked:

"Whom are you looking for?"

"Yes, the skeleton in the black robe of a necromancer. He calls himself the Old Man and likes to talk about the basics of necromancy."

Listening to Vallynor, Duke Grave frowned because he didn't recall such a necromancer. Clarifying a few points, Duke Grave shook his head, apologizing for not knowing that necromancer.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Doesn't anyone know the Old Man? Strange. After all, as I thought, he is unusual. Well, I'll be able to meet him again tomorrow. Thinking about it, I decided to keep quiet about the Old Man for now.

After some time, watching the necromancers fighting each other and occasionally summoning their undead servants, Duke Grave said:

"You've taken the first step. And, as I see, in three directions." - Seeing Vallynor's nod, confirming Duke's thoughts, he continued: - "Then I must correct a misunderstanding by creating regular undead, not that construct with runes. Let's turn you into a true necromancer."

Moving away from everyone for a while, Duke Grave led Vallynor to a local corpse freezer, or rather, a morgue where many corpses were stored. The most common and simple ones were thrown in a pile.

It was clear that it was just regular meat, of no value. In another place, on stone pedestals, various kinds of creatures sat. It wasn't hard to guess that they were more valuable than all the other corpses. On the pedestals, you could see the bodies of dragons, giants, and other unusual creatures. Necromancers walked back and forth, taking the corpses or returning them.

"Let's start creating the undead from these bodies," - he pointed to the pile of common corpses that looked like humans, but with some deviations, such as arms twice as long or a different shape of legs, and so on.

"A necromancer can create two types of undead: one without a soul, and the other with a soul as a catalyst. Undead created without a soul are just cannon fodder; they remain as they were created until they're destroyed because they cannot evolve. But if you create undead using a soul for its creation, this undead can develop in the future, become stronger, and change its form. For example, from a walking corpse to a zombie, a zombie can turn into a skeleton, a bigger zombie, a wraith, and so on. There's no fixed path. Rarely, but sometimes, an ordinary zombie becomes a vampire or a spirit, and they all possess a soul," explained Duke Grave.

Taking one corpse by the neck, Duke Grave raised it and infused energy, transforming it into a zombie. The zombie, slightly staggering, awaited its master's orders. Looking into the empty eye sockets, devoid of any feeling, it seemed like a mere mechanism.

"First, we'll create regular undead without a soul. For this, you need to..."

The Duke joyfully began to explain the structure of the spell, what one should think and imagine during the process, and what feelings should arise. Then he threw a corpse in front of Vallynor and told him to repeat everything he had said in practice.

Vallynor tried to embody everything Duke Grave had explained, but unfortunately, he couldn't succeed. Something always interfered with him completing the spell, and when he solved one problem, another one arose in its place. So he repeated again and again. Necromancers passing by stopped and began to watch him.

Vallynor was completely absorbed in ecstasy. He didn't know why, but he enjoyed solving all these tasks. It was like a game for his mind, which he had always played before. But if he used to play for pleasure, now every victory brought him a part of the spell.

Looking at the created undead, Vallynor felt that it was stronger than the ones he had previously created using runes. However, he was distracted by the conversation behind him.

"This undead was poorly made... But..." began a beautiful girl with red eyes.

"In fact, he created undead on his own for the first time. I heard that before, he used runes," she continued.

"If that's the case, then it's not bad, it's quite good," the old man nodded, and other necromancers supported him.

Suddenly, Vallynor turned around and saw a large group of necromancers, watching him and the undead he had created. It looked like a scene where suitors decide whether to take a girl or not.

Patting Vallynor on the shoulder, Duke Grave turned to the source and met it with a joyful nod.

"I see that you have the soul of a true necromancer. You've dealt with all the nuances I didn't have time to explain. Keep training a bit, and then we'll move on. And you, why are you just sitting there?" he addressed the others.

"Huh? Is it about us?" asked the Lich, pointing to themselves.

"Yes, I'm talking about you."

"Oh, understood, just don't worry about us. We won't interfere," the old woman said, waving her hand. The others supported her and continued to talk amongst themselves, ignoring Duke Grave.

Sighing, Duke Grave turned to Vallynor and supported him with words, urging him to ignore the others.

Vallynor turned back to the corpses and continued creating undead. The necromancers observed closely and pointed out mistakes. At first, they watched patiently, but after some time, they couldn't bear it, and they came closer to help him correct his errors.

"Son, you need to pay more attention to this moment," said the old woman, showing how to do it correctly.

"And also, you haven't completed the spell if the undead started moving. You have to finish establishing the connection," added another necromancer and patted Vallynor on the head, seeing that he wasn't trying to correct himself.

Duke Grave silently watched as the necromancers could no longer bear to watch Vallynor's training. He saw that their pride as necromancers was hurt, and they wanted to help and correct Vallynor. At first, Duke Grave contemplated interfering with all these necromancers.

However, he came to the conclusion that it would be better to let them do what they wanted. At first, he wanted Vallynor to learn on his own and correct his mistakes, but maybe it's better to let them do everything themselves. After all, in the future, these necromancers would teach Vallynor and pass on their wisdom.

Watching all of this, Duke Grave saw how quickly Vallynor was developing and rejoiced in it. When he noticed that Vallynor had already learned enough, the Duke approached him, pushing the other necromancers who surrounded Vallynor.

"Grandson, you need to train more. You will become a great necromancer," he said.

"You must establish a connection with your undead after creating them," said a necromancer, patting Vallynor on the head.

"Thank you all," Vallynor bowed, feeling gratitude and joy for the help he had received and for learning many nuances.

"I'm sorry, but it's time for me to leave," he said, feeling tired. He realized that he had already spent too much time and needed to go back to rest.

"I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow," Duke Grave said, and the others also confirmed that they would be here to help him correct his mistakes.

***

Having left the Necronomicon, I sat on the bed and began to meditate. Energy in the form of mana and necrotic energy started to circulate throughout my body more rapidly. Previously, I didn't really feel this energy and couldn't identify its type, but now it became clear that all this time, both mana and necrotic energy were present within me.

Mana, essentially, was a depleted energy that hadn't fused with the necrotic energy, which logically should have happened. After all, mana and necrotic energy were essentially the same, like water. Even if they came from different sources, they should have become a unified whole. But reality turned out differently.

They didn't blend, like water and oil – two liquids that never mix. This raised a multitude of thoughts and questions, to which I could find answers... tonight.

Setting aside my concerns, I began to create the foundation for my "mind ziggurat" – that's what I decided to call it. It was supposed to contain all the mana and possibly necrotic energy for spellcasting.

However, first, I needed to get rid of the consequences of the failed attempt to create the pool. This experiment no longer made sense and only got in the way. With a tinge of bitterness, I disposed of the remnants, obtaining a clean slate to create the foundation for my "ziggurat." Amid the sounds of cries and gunshots, I started building it until morning arrived, forcing me to start a new day. It seemed like I couldn't sleep as freely as before. The days when I could go without sleep for days to survive came to mind... and how could that **** manage to kill me? Cursed luck.

After changing, I instantly teleported to the arena, where Nefan was already waiting for me. Upon seeing my nod, he smiled joyfully and said:

"So, shall we begin?" he asked.

I nodded in response, and Nefan, continuing the conversation, began to explain, accompanied by combat.

***

After three hours of intense training, I could faintly feel how my muscles were toughening and becoming stronger. They were undergoing a transformation and getting reinforced, but by the standards of the monsters inhabiting this world, these were only minor achievements.

Immediately after changing, I teleported to Horkim's forge. Here, I had to ask him for help in creating arrows once again, and this time, the result turned out better. They didn't come out crooked now. Then I asked all the gathered blacksmiths to strike a massive metal sphere with their hammers. This sphere was so large that its diameter exceeded five meters. I eagerly awaited my weapon.

After a two-hour mastery session, I instantly teleported to the shower to take a refreshing bath. Feeling the water cleanse my body, I could once again sense it getting slightly stronger. But it was just a drop. For now.

***

Caesar, as usual, was sitting at his desk, writing and waiting for me. As soon as I appeared, he immediately began his lesson on the basics of energy. He started with the question of what types of spells exist and what elements can be present in them.

I promptly replied that there are attack magic, support magic, and then my knowledge dwindled. I hadn't played games for a long time, especially not in the role of a mage. I always preferred to play as a necromancer. As for elements... water, fire, air...

I didn't get a chance to finish before Caesar threw a book at me, muttering that he expected such an answer. But reality turned out to be too harsh.

After that, he started criticizing my narrow view and called anyone who thought that the main elements were fire, water, and so on, idiots. Where did time come from? Where did space come from? Where did so many types of elements come from? And it made me realize that there couldn't be just four primary elements - water, fire, earth, and air. Moreover, they couldn't be the foundation for everything. Even by combining them, most elements couldn't be obtained.

The most compelling evidence that even the Universe itself confirms Caesar's words is that mana itself consists of different types of energy. It includes elements of fire, water, and others. Slowly, I began to understand how limited my thinking was.

As I was about to leave, Caesar called out to me and stopped me. He got up and approached me, saying, "Today, the next three lessons will take place on the battlefield."