Chapter Sixty-Two: The Schools of Necromancy

"You believed what Casimodo said?" Lucas asked.

"York thought he was a kind-hearted person," old York replied. "At that time, York truly believed he could use necromancy for good, that he would use it to heal the sick."

"He painted a grand vision that York yearned for. He said the world misunderstood necromancy, that we shouldn't treat it as something extreme. Casimodo claimed that one day, he would restore necromancy's reputation, so that no one would harbor prejudice against necromancy or necromancers."

"That all sounds very nice."

"That devilish young man bewitched York with his words. York really believed him, began to follow his ideas, and helped him obtain some prohibited materials that were hard to acquire through ordinary means."

"York lent him his alchemy lab. Almost every night, Casimodo would sneak from the Oak Tavern to York's workshop, keeping it secret from his mentor, and leave before dawn."

"During the three months he spent in Alvador, he increasingly asked York to accompany him to treat patients. Some were cured, but some died."

"York didn't pay much attention at the time, but later realized that those who died were all homeless, friendless vagrants. Casimodo must have done something to them on the operating table, killed them. Such people, if they died on the street, would go unnoticed, which is why he selected them."

"Normally, even if someone died during treatment, York would never have dissected the corpse, but Casimodo said, 'Progress always requires sacrifice.' He persuaded York to be his assistant and dissect the dead with him."

"So that was your first step into the abyss?" Lucas said.

"That was the first step into the abyss," the dwarf said quietly. "York naively thought he could truly make a difference."

"But when spring came, Casimodo left Alvador. Before leaving, he gave York his address and said he would communicate with him via the snow geese or night owls he kept."

"He and York set up a code. We never used real names in our letters, nor wrote sensitive terms like 'corpse' or 'dissection.'"

"During those three years, what did you do for him?" Lucas asked.

"A great deal," old York said. "Casimodo would send money, asking York to buy materials and send them to certain places."

"And there was research related to dissection and necromancy. Because Casimodo lived in his mentor’s wizard tower, with daily lessons and spell practice, he couldn't easily access corpses. So he asked York to continue the research they had started in Alvador, like drawing detailed anatomical diagrams of organs and skeletons. York made many sketches for him during that time."

"When did you realize he was up to no good?"

"Around the second year, his requests grew more and more outrageous," old York said. "He wanted York to obtain things related to infants and pregnant women. Those requests were too horrifying, and York refused."

"He wrote long letters trying to persuade York, but York eventually realized that Casimodo’s actions didn’t match his words, and began to suspect him. Casimodo then moderated his demands, keeping them within what York could accept."

"It wasn’t until the third year, on the day York finally learned his first necromantic spell, that he went to the attic where Little Bean Sprout was kept. York had learned an entry-level soul communication spell from the soul school, thinking he could finally speak with Little Bean Sprout."

"But... all York heard were sharp, grating wails, like knives flaying the creature’s flesh. Only then did York realize Little Bean Sprout’s soul had been forcibly anchored to its skeleton by Casimodo. When York opened the creature, beneath the dry pelt there were only stones and clay soaked in preservative—its internal organs were empty cavities."

"Little Bean Sprout was not interacting with York by its own will; it was simply following Casimodo's command, meowing and rubbing against York's leg as if alive, while its soul was twisted and tormented."

"In that moment, York finally saw through Casimodo’s gentle façade to the horror beneath. He had only used York as a convenient tool. York even began to believe Little Bean Sprout had been killed by Casimodo. The cat had lived safely in Alvador for seven years—why did it die just five days after Casimodo arrived?"

"That really is too much of a coincidence," Lucas nodded.

"So York personally freed Little Bean Sprout’s soul, returning it to the earth," old York said. "After that, York was torn, debating whether to report Casimodo to the Church, but before he could, Casimodo’s necromancy was exposed."

"Probably because York refused his requests, Casimodo took matters into his own hands. The traces he left were discovered by his mentor. Casimodo used necromancy to kill his mentor. He had prepared in advance, and the entire Bramble Bay was infected with his corpse-poison. He made a clean escape. After that, York heard nothing of him for a long time."

"But if that's so, twelve years ago you should have given up necromancy. Why did you transform this cavern?" Lucas asked, puzzled.

"York wanted to give it up," old York sighed again. "But those patients—those who could not be healed, the poor, the suffering, the desperate—begged York for help, pleaded for his aid."

"So York continued his research, kept his identity hidden, and secretly treated the sick. Though Casimodo lied to York, York still believed in his words: necromancy itself is not frightening; only how it is used can be frightening."

"York thought, since he had no gift to become a mage, and could never become a true necromancer, how could someone like him be drawn into the abyss by greed or ambition?"

"So York continued his research into healing. If one thoroughly understands the position and function of organs and bones, many ailments become easier to treat."

Lucas was silent for a while. "I'm sorry I lost my temper with you before, York."

"It's alright, Potter," old York said. "Blame old York's foolishness and cowardice for falling under Casimodo's spell, but York does not regret his research—it truly helped some people."

"Having heard your story, I've changed my mind about necromancy."

"But York has said all this just to make you understand Casimodo’s cruelty and cunning. Remember, when York met him, he was only a teenager, yet already so terrifying. Be very, very careful when facing him."

"I understand that very clearly," Lucas said solemnly.

"Now that Casimodo's past is told, let York tell you about his school of magic."

"Potter, you probably know little about necromancers, so I'll start with the basics."

"Go ahead."

"Necromancy is generally divided into three schools: the Construct school, the Blood school, and the Soul school."

"As the name suggests, the Construct school specializes in spells like necromantic stitching, making skeletons and zombies, even corpse explosion. All belong to this school."

"I know that one. In Bronte village, we saw Casimodo's stitched beasts and undead hounds."

"Casimodo is most skilled in the Construct school, but he definitely knows spells from the other two schools as well. I'll finish explaining the basics, then tell you what spells of Casimodo's I know."

"Alright, next is the Blood school, right?"

"The Blood school is very different from the Construct school—it doesn't act on corpses, but on the necromancer himself or the undead minions he controls. Its main feature is the alteration of life force. If you want an analogy, it's a bit like healing magic, but fundamentally different."

"For example?"

"Blood spells can be used directly to attack. They can draw blood and flesh from the victim and feed it back to the necromancer. Some blood spells can also strengthen the necromancer's undead minions."

"Alright, I understand. What about the Soul school?"

"The Soul school is the most mysterious and the hardest to master. Usually, only naturally occurring undead, like banshees or wraiths, can wield advanced soul spells. Such magic is unstoppable, nearly impossible to resist, and can kill a person without a trace."

"But you need not worry too much. Research into the Soul school and its spells is extremely limited. It's almost impossible to achieve the direct lethality of a banshee or wraith. The most a human-cast soul spell can do is give you a headache."