After class ended, I practiced my mana circulation for a few hours and ate lunch before attending Ethical Necromancy at 12:40.

Since I didn’t want a repeat of my dramatic entrance in Heroic Dancing, I made sure to arrive fifteen minutes early. The candlelit classroom was secluded in the basement section of the east wing of the academy. Under the tiny, flickering flames, shadows danced on the muddy walls, illuminating the furrows in the cold, packed dirt. Despite the warm season, the humid air was frigid and musty, reminiscent of rotting wood.

Thaddeus only ever visited this place one time in the original web fiction. He was investigating a practitioner of black magic and I decided to make this place aesthetically grim and edgy ‘cause I was seventeen and felt like it would make the people here seem evil.

To be clear, there were no evil black mages or necromancers affiliated with Horizon Academy. I thought it would be too obvious, so I made them all good people instead. There was only one member of the main cast who practiced black magic and it was…

‘Oh, shoot…’

I forgot…

As that thought crossed my mind, she entered the room.

Long, curly brown hair, warm, brown eyes, and a cozy, confident smile. Her features didn’t stand out, but her eyes were clear and her heart was clean, the ideal person to practice ethical necromancy.

Jessica spotted me and her eyes widened slightly before she approached with a grin on her face. “Heyo, remember me?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to ease my aching heart. I recovered surprisingly quickly and, when I opened my eyes again, she was calmly staring at me, waiting for my response.

“I do.”

“Noice. I’m gonna sit next to you, m’kay?”

Without waiting for my next response, she plopped a textbook down on the desk next to mine and dropped into the seat. I glanced at the cover of the textbook out of curiosity.

The cover had a picture of a tall, ruggedly handsome man in a dark robe with his well-defined chest exposed. He was holding a frail-looking maiden with an enraptured look on her face as she pretended to try and free herself from his grasp.

The Necromantic Overlord and the Defiant Virgin; A Whispered Promise of Love

Fighting back the urge to burst into laughter, I turned my head away and covered my mouth.

‘I forgot about that…’

When I wrote Jessica as a character, I wasn’t so arrogant as to assume I knew everything there was to know about my girlfriend. She had a heavy hand in creating the character. From the character’s use of black magic and necromancy to her love of cheesy romance with necromantic overlords, and her desire to hide her character’s study of illegal magic in a grimoire disguised as erotica, everything about this world’s Jessica was designed and approved by the real one.

Of course, I put my own twist on the character since I was the one writing it, but my ex-girlfriend’s influence meant that there were a lot of details I never would have thought to include.

“So you can smile,” Jessica observed.

Her comment brought me back to reality and I immediately frowned.

‘Was her character like this? Why is she sitting next to me?’

“I smile when a person’s worth it,” I replied. “It’s a bold move carrying that book in public.”

“Oh, right…” She looked away, a hint of crimson in her cheeks. “Anyway, you gonna get over your edge lord phase? When I walked into the room, I thought you were part of the scenery.”

“Seriously? Was it that bad?”

“Maximum cringe.”

“Ughhh…”

Was it that obvious? Thaddeus and Lilith didn’t mention anything, so I thought I was doing better…

“You shouldn’t keep it all bottled up inside. That explosion the other day… if you’re hurting that much, you shouldn’t have let me leave like that.”

‘What do you know?’ I wanted to ask, but I didn’t. There was no point in pushing all my baggage onto a fictional character. For all her similarities, this was a different Jessica.

“I’m fine,” I said. “I got it out of my system, so I should be good for a while.”

She punched my shoulder. “I’ll take that for now. Make sure you find a healthier way to express yourself. Like maybe writing a story or something?”

‘Huh?’ I froze.

“...What?”

She smiled. “I bet you could write a really good story if you tried.”

“Where did that come from?”

“Let’s call it ‘intuition’.”

“...”

“Why, do you think I’m wrong?”

I shrugged. “Well, who knows?”

She answered my cryptic response with a knowing smile. “‘Who knows’, indeed.”

With that comment, we fell into an awkward silence. Neither of us tried to start another conversation. I drew circles on my desk with my finger while Jessica cracked open her grimoire and started reading.

Finally, the professor arrived.

A short, portly old man with a magnificent, belly-length grey beard and a shiny, bald head strode into the musky dungeon-esque classroom. Standing at the front, he introduced himself.

“Good Afternoon. I am Professor Zeltron Morte. As you are my students, I will respond only to the titles ‘Professor’ or ‘Lord’.”

I actually remembered writing about this guy. Thaddeus would first encounter him during the black magic investigation, but Lord Zeltron Morte ended up being an important character from the Eastern Empire. He was a close confidante of Princess Diana and a powerful Hero with the nickname ‘One Man Army’.

“This is Ethical Necromancy. I place an emphasis on ‘ethical’ because we will not be practicing unethical necromancy in this course. The most important lesson that you can learn in this class is that necromancy and black magic have practical and ethical applications, despite the stigma placed on them by media and cultural misrepresentation for millennia.”

He withdrew a small talisman from a bag tied to his belt and imbued it with mana. The talisman glowed blue for a moment, highlighting the intricate magic circle drawn across it. Then the talisman disintegrated into dust.

Without warning, a skeletal hand erupted from the wall, spraying muddy dirt across the desk and the students sitting nearby, eliciting several shocked cries. More bones followed until seven skeletons stood lined up along the wall. They approached the professor and he handed each skeleton a stack of papers which they began passing out to the students.

“You are about to receive a form that I expect you to turn in at the end of class. You are to answer each and every question truthfully and without reservation. If I judge that any of you have lied, you will immediately be removed from the course and you will not be permitted to enroll in black magic or necromancy-related courses for the remainder of your time at Horizon Academy.”

I received a form from one of the skeletons and scanned it, curious about the contents.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

1. Do you have any skills related to black magic or necromancy? Y/N

If yes, what are they? ___________.

2. While studying black magic or necromancy, have you ever experienced brief periods of confusion, loss of memory, or loss of control? Y/N

If yes, explain in detail. ___________.

3. Have you ever made a contract with a restricted entity such as a lich, a dracolich, or an unaffiliated demon? Y/N

*Contracts with affiliated demons made after the truce are acceptable. Timestamps are required as proof. In the event that you made a contract with an affiliated demon before the truce and would like to legalize the contract, leave a note here and the proper legal authorities will contact you.

4. Do you have evil intent? Y/N

*Evil intent includes, but is not limited to, intent to accomplish proudly immoral and wicked acts such as senseless violence and murder, tyrannical oppression, mass slaughter (discriminate or indiscriminate), sexual misconduct, malicious deception, tax evasion, desecration of the dead, grand theft, excessive consumption of limited material resources, posturing on social media, and putting pineapple on pizza.

All but the last one were easy to answer. The last one was a bit of a problem since it was a bit too specific. I may or may not have already murderized a villain before he had a chance to perform his evil acts. Was that ‘evil’? By many definitions, it probably was.

Well, whatever. It’s like culling bandits in a video game.

Since this was an easy enough questionnaire, I answered all four questions relatively quickly. I grabbed a pen and circled ‘N’ for all of them. The worst-case scenario is that they disagreed and kicked me out of the class. It wasn’t the end of the world if I couldn’t learn necromancy. I was only here for the dual credits anyway.

“Make sure I receive every questionnaire at the end of class. If you fail to turn in your paper, I will remove you from the course. We take our ethical necromancy very seriously here at Horizon Academy.”

Out of curiosity, I glanced at several of the other students filling out the questionnaire. Some of them were writing a surprising amount in response to the questions.

“Now, I will proceed with the first discourse. Today’s topic is ‘Ethics in Necromancy’. We will explore this by reviewing two historic figures: Binks the Tyrant and his nemesis Bob the Immortal.”

‘...Who are they?’ This was the first time I’d ever heard either of those names. This seemed to be some flavor detail that Gramma added to the world…?

Except there was no popup window indicating a change.

“Can anyone tell me about Binks the Tyrant?”

Jessica raised her hand. “Binks was a noble from the Eastern Empire who studied literature and economics. When his proposed policies were rejected, he incited an insurrection in his kingdom and created an endless army of undead. By the end of the war, every soldier who fought with him and every civilian in his territory was turned undead to fuel his war machine.”

“An adequate summary, although lacking in detail. I don’t suppose you also know about Bob the Immortal?”

She pursed her lips, dissatisfied with his response to her answer. “Obviously,” she intoned. “He was the guy that killed Binks the Tyrant. They fought a war over the Torsten Kingdom for several years. Bob was known for his use of necromancy to protect and defend. His unique principle was that he only used corpses donated to his cause to fight, and he used undead in place of living soldiers to minimize the loss of life.”

“Where are you from, cadet?” Lord Morte asked.

“...America.”

“Oh, I understand. It makes sense why your explanation is so lacking if you attended… ah, what do they call it again? ‘Public school’?”

Her face flushed red. If I didn’t know any better, I might assume she was embarrassed or maybe flustered, but I knew Jessica. She was pissed.

“Why…?” she started to ask when I cut her off.

“Is the commentary really necessary?” I asked.

He examined me while running his fingers through his beard. “Very funny, cadet. What’s your name?”

“Brick, but you can call me Your Holiness, the Creator God, or even KittenSniper if you’re feeling like being a little extra.”

“Cadet Brick, there’s always one or two students like you. If you think you’re so smart, then I assume you did your reading before class.”

‘...There was a reading assignment? Since when?!’

“Answer me this: When performing a simple ritual of command, what are the three ethical sources of material?”

“One is… donated bodies?” I guessed using Jessica’s early example as a reference.

“And?”

“...Bones created using magic.”

He nodded. “That’s two.”

I had no idea what a third possible source could be. There was a small tap on my elbow before Jessica passed me a note. Glancing at the contents, I confidently answered, “In situations of dire need, such as self-defense or in times of war, it is legally acceptable to use the corpses of enemies as materials without their permission.”

“Well, even if your fellow student provided it, that is the correct answer. I do not care how you arrive at the destination so long as the path you take builds a strong foundation.”

He began pacing along the front of the classroom.

“Necromancy as a concept predates the recorded history of humanity. There is much unknown about death, and that uncertainty gives rise to fear and superstition. Binks the Tyrant was a nobleman dedicated to his kingdom and, by extension, the empire to which he belonged. He truly sought to improve the lives of others, but unfortunately resorted to force when his words and evidence were insufficient. He used necromancy as a weapon to suppress dissent and forced an entire kingdom to kneel with his might. He is recorded to have said ‘I cannot stand by and allow my king and my people to wallow in ignorance. If I must stain my hand, then so be it. My conscience demands action.’”

He paused. “Where’s Chalky?” he muttered aloud while looking at each of the skeletons in turn. “Ah, there you are.” He snapped his fingers and one of the skeletons exploded into dust. With a gesture like he was writing on air, thin streams of bone dust glided to the board and began to mimic his movements, leaving behind chalk-like words on the board.

Ethics ≠ Personal Morality.

“When dealing with the discussion of ‘ethics’, it is important to define morality. If you look at broader discussions in society, it is clear that we as humans do not universally agree on the morality of every issue. I assume this is the same for demons, treaders, and aliens.”

Several of those from their respective races nodded in agreement.

“When we define ethical magic usage as an issue of personal morality, then the resulting conflicts escalate to a terrifying extent. We saw this in the case of Binks the Tyrant. He decided that his views were correct and that he had no choice but to enforce them. Necromancy is a deadly weapon in the hands of individuals who carry such a mindset. As such, we cannot leave the ethical usage of magic to personal definitions of morality. In this course, we will cover in detail the scenarios in which necromancy is legally defined as ‘ethical’, the necromantic rituals and summons that may be used in those scenarios, and the very few exceptions to these rules that you may encounter as an active Hero. The last half of this course will include a practicum in which you each will attempt to summon an undead minion, as well as a field trip to gain supervised field experience working as a necromancer.”

…This class sounded like it was going to be surprisingly interesting. I folded my fingers together under my chin and rested my elbows on my desk.

“Since today is only the first day, I will end the lecture here. My minions will collect your questionnaires and pass out a bone and a talisman to each of you. Before you leave today, I expect each and every one of you to activate the talisman and establish a connection with the bone, no matter how weak it is.”

The skeletons began making the rounds again and I passed my paper to one when prompted. It gave me a femur and a talisman and moved on.

Since I wrote a lot of notes about magic in my outlines and whatnot, I sorta understood what I was supposed to be doing. Grabbing the femur in one hand and the talisman in the other, I closed my eyes and searched for my mana. The explosive energy surged at my call and the mana scar on my hand pulsed, sending waves of energy over the visible circuit. My hand involuntarily flexed, causing the bone to drop to the floor. A few eyes turned toward me when the clattering sound echoed throughout the damp dungeon-esque room.

“Sorry, sorry,” I said. “Musta been the carpal tunnel.”

I managed to get one or two pity laughs and decided that was good enough for now. Retrieving the bone, I tried again, this time being much more careful than before. Pulling just a little bit of mana from the stream, I tried to imbue it into the talisman.

The talisman burst into flame.

“...”

I wasn’t sure a joke would get me out of this situation…

Professor Morte cleared his throat. “Well, then. I think you’ll agree that this is an unsatisfactory result.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

“If you’re done causing chaos, you may leave. I expect a better performance on Friday.”

I clenched and unclenched my fists before jumping to my feet. “Sounds good. See ya Friday, Teach!”

Just before I started moving, there was a soft tap on my shoulder.

“See you around, Brick,” Jessica said with a cute little half-wave.

“Yeah, sure,” I replied halfheartedly.

Straightening my shoulders to appear unintimidated, I calmly strode out of the classroom at a pace slightly faster than walking.

Honestly? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go back.