Surprisingly, outside the bat Space, the entire hall was silent.
The battle between the top two first years had been too shocking, leaving everyone speechless as they tried to process what they had witnessed.
Was it the overwhelming power of the mysterious Michael Norman, the so-called necromancer?
Or was it the astonishing strength of the Vice Principal’s disciple, Rynne Halvane?
Her class was unmon, so much so that even many senior students had never heard of it. Yet, the power she displayed was far beyond what anyone expected from a first-year student.
Who were these two, and why were they so strong?
And that undead—what was it?
At first, most of the uninformed students assumed the undead was one of Michael’s rumored Rank 3 summons. But when they noticed the expressions of the other first years who had participated in the third round of the entrance exams with Michael change, they realized something was wrong.
When they asked around, they discovered that this was a pletely new undead.
Which meant, if the rumors were true—and by now, everyone knew they were—Michael Norman had at least three Rank 3 undead.
That was already more than some senior necromancers possessed.
But what truly made this unbelievable was that Michael had only been awakened for four months.
How did he achieve his current strength in such a short time?
What would he bee in a year?
Everyone knew that for a Rank 2 necromancer to possess even one Rank 3 undead was incredibly difficult. The rituals required to increase the success rate were also plex and expensive.
That was because Rank 3 creatures carried great significance.
Not everyone was like Michael, whose mana capacity exceeded that of most Rank 3 creatures, whose elemental affinity was absurd, and who possessed a demigod-tier constitution that allowed him to touch upon the essence of laws to be Instinctively affected by it.
With those advantages, he could turn Rank 3 beings into undead far more easily than others.
The only other method was to have an undead prehend a law on its own—but the difficulty of that was obvious.
Still, with three Rank 3 undead under his mand, as long as Michael had patience and invested the right resources, it was only a matter of time before he gained three peak Rank 3 undead.
And that was without considering their potential for leveling up.
Unlike some students whose strength peaked early, Michael Norman’s power was only just beginning to grow.
Even if he relied solely on his undead, he would continue to rise.
If he managed to prehend a law before graduation, he would not just be one of the strongest students in the academy—
He would be one of the most powerful individuals in all of Aurora.
In a corner, Ryn sat quietly, his expression unreadable. His usual sharpness was nowhere to be found, replaced by a calm that surprised even himself.
Beside him, Kieran, who always had something witty or mocking to say, was silent as well. His eyes remained fixed on the fading image of the bat Space, where Michael stood holding Rynne.
He didn’t even attempt to taunt Ryn this time.
His sister’s strength exceeded his own. She was a prodigy, a genius, and if even she couldn’t match that necromancer, what right did he have to laugh?
Kieran’s gaze dropped slightly.
Ryn’s eyes remained on the pillar in the center area. The moment his sister started falling, the Instructor had turned off the projection much to his pleasure.
Ryn thought he would be angry, but instead, he felt something closer to acceptance.
His sister had given her all. Even if he wanted to deny it, the result was clear for everyone to see. Michael Norman was simply beyond anything they had expected.
"If even she couldn’t do anything against him," Ryn said softly, "then refusing to accept it would only make me look like a loser."
He leaned back slightly, exhaling. "She did her best. That’s enough."
Kieran turned toward him, faintly surprised by how calm he looked. "You’re not angry?"
Ryn’s lips curved slightly, though it wasn’t quite a smile. "Anger doesn’t change reality. And reality," he said, glancing back toward the pillar, "is that a monster walks among us."
For a long while, neither of them spoke.
The rest of the students around them whispered and speculated in disbelief, but the two remained silent.
Ryn’s calm was the calm of a man who had accepted his place. Kieran’s silence was the silence of someone who had finally seen something beyond arrogance—something that made him realize how vast the gap between genius and monstrosity truly was.
"Still," Kieran finally muttered under his breath, "I wonder what that guy will bee in a few years."
Ryn didn’t answer.
The silence that had settled over the bat Hall lingered for a few seconds more before a sharp voice cut through it.
"That’s enough. Everyone, clear out."
It was Instructor Yara. Her tone wasn’t loud, but it carried authority that left no room for argument. The murmurs died instantly as students turned toward her.
She stood with her arms crossed. Though the projection had already been dimmed, Yara had seen enough in those last few moments before shutting it down—the state of Rynne’s body, the fragments of armor peeling away, and her uniform disintegrating as the fusion effect ended.
She trusted Michael—not because she believed in his morals, but because of where they were.
Still, as a woman and an instructor, she felt a twist of disfort.
"The rank contest his over. Michael Norman is now top 1 of the first years for two months," she said firmly. "You’ve seen enough. Everyone, out. Now."
The mand broke the crowd’s trance. Slowly, students still whispering in awe and disbelief as they shuffled toward the exits.
"That wasn’t even his full power, was it?"
"I think Instructor Yara closed it because of Rynne’s armor."
"She’s going to be fine, right?"
"Michael Norman... that guy’s not normal."
"For real."
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