Within the Awakening Hall of East Bay Royal Academy, every gaze gradually fixed upon a single youth.
Alex's expression was calm, yet thunder rumbled in his chest.
To surpass Garfield, simply awakening into a Combat Class was not enough. He needed at least a Rare rank profession or higher—and the odds of that were slimmer than winning the favor of the gods on a moonless night's dice throw.
"Next—Alex."
Principal Whitney's voice resounded through the hall.
At last, it was his turn.
Drawing in a deep breath, Alex stepped out from the crowd and strode toward the heart of the Awakening Array.
One by one, the runes inscribed upon the floor flared to life, faint streams of light weaving across the circle beneath his feet.
"That's Alex, the Academy's so-called scholar. Wonder what he'll awaken into."
"Scholar? In this world, knowledge is worthless. What matters is class rank. Even the weakest combat profession beats perfect grades."
"Forget Rare—even an ordinary combat class would make him far stronger than us."
The whispers swelled in every corner of the hall. Even Alma, still radiant from her rare awakening, cast him a fleeting glance.
But as moments passed, the array continued to hum—without showing any sign of completion.
"What's going on? Is the ritual malfunctioning?"
Whitney's brows knitted tightly. He glanced toward the officiating runemaster, Samuel.
Samuel was no frontline warrior, but as a high-ranking professional of the kingdom, his mastery over the Awakening and Teleportation Arrays placed him beyond reproach.
"Normal," Samuel replied, voice cool. Yet his eyes betrayed a flicker of something deeper.
For within his heart, a storm was raging.
The longer an Awakening endured, the greater the class it heralded.
And this youth… his Awakening far exceeded the limits of ordinary.
This boy… could very well give birth to a profession worthy of the chronicles of history.
Suddenly—BOOM!
A deafening roar split the air.
From the array surged a tide of black mist, vast and suffocating. A coldness flooded the hall, smothering the summer heat—June itself seemed to plunge into midwinter.
Countless students shivered involuntarily.
"The array… it's smoking?!"
"What's happening to the Awakening?"
"This fog… it feels like it's trying to devour my soul…"
Just as panic threatened to engulf the hall, the world itself shuddered.
A pillar of blood-red radiance burst skyward, searing across heaven and earth.
It was a light like the gaze of a god—an eternal scar branding itself upon every soul present.
Samuel's pupils shrank to pinpoints. He staggered back, his voice breaking into a hoarse shout:
"An omen! A Mythic-class profession! Someone has awakened a Mythic class!"
Whitney's face drained of color, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"Red… Mythic…?!"
Rare classes were already one in ten thousand.
Legendary classes were glimpsed perhaps once in a century.
But a Mythic class—across the entire continent, only a handful existed!
The crimson brilliance slowly receded. The tide of black mist drew inward, curling like a beast bowing before an unseen will.
Samuel's voice shook, yet rang clear as he proclaimed:
"—Alex, Awakening successful. Profession: Necromancer."
The hall fell deathly silent.
Then, an uproar like thunder erupted.
"Necromancer?! What kind of class is that?"
"I've never seen it recorded in the Academy's tomes!"
"Could it be… not only Mythic, but a hidden profession as well?!"
—
Alex stepped slowly out of the array, his heart pounding so violently it threatened to burst from his chest.
And as they had guessed—it was indeed a hidden profession.
A torrent of information flooded into his mind like a roaring tide:
[Profession: Necromancer]
[Level: 1 (0.00%)]
[Strength: 10]
[Constitution: 10]
[Agility: 10]
[Spirit: 10]
[Necrotic Space: 0/10]
[Talent: Domain of Death — All summoned creatures' attributes increased tenfold]
[Skills: Servant of the Reaper, Soul-Piercing Arrow]
Alex's breath came sharp and ragged.
"Domain of Death… tenfold amplification?!"
Even the weakest undead, in his hands, would become monsters capable of crushing their peers.
And the Soul-Piercing Arrow… a divine skill that could strike down enemies in an instant.
This was no ordinary summoner.
This was one who forged contracts with death itself, who commanded the souls of the otherworld—
A Necromancer.
"Young man… show me your summon."
Samuel's eyes blazed, his voice trembling with barely restrained excitement.
Alex gave a solemn nod. With a thought, he activated [Servant of the Reaper].
Buzz—
In an instant, his spirit power was drained, and behind him, a chilling summoning circle flared into existence.
Once more, black mist surged forth, carrying with it the breath of ice and death.
First to emerge was a gleaming scythe, forged of darkness itself, radiating a murderous chill.
Then followed a figure, cloaked in tattered black robes, stepping slowly out of the void.
Empty sockets blazed with ghostly green fire.
Its robe stirred without wind, its presence suffocating—like the herald of death itself descending upon the world.
The hall fell into utter silence.
For in that moment, they all understood—
Alex had not merely awakened a profession.
He had awakened a profession that would rewrite the fate of the entire continent—
A Mythic-Class Necromancer.