Professor Margarette of Thaumaturgic Anatomy firmly spoke as she stood near a ritualistic circle drawn on the ground.
"The Usurper's Circle, this is one of the rarest forms of magic known to mankind. To achieve success, what matters most is how we utilize this circle to redirect its target from the gods of the usurpers to our Death God."
She stepped forward, kneeling by the runes. With a fine-tipped quill dipped in ash and gall ink, she altered the sigils at the circle's heart, merging old script with new intent.
The dark, etched webbing retracted into a portrait, a scythe, perhaps? No, it shifted into a hand, five fingers now clearly visible. And the symbol, she's altering it too.
This went on for a while.
Now, she has altered the basic circle, replacing its design with the Death Symbol, which was eerily similar to the emblem of House Todesmal.
She mutters a phrase, "I am nigh death."
The circle began to glow in a dark swamp-green hue, with miasma slowly seeping from its edges.
She slowly stood up and took a careful step back as she said,
"This is the Death Mark, or the Death Symbol of the God of Death and Purity, the ultimate Necromancer God and King of Dark Magic."
The students murmured as they spoke with awe in their voice, and even my eyes were glued to the circle.
In front of me, the circle started forming concentric rings, writhing and twisting like a worm. The grotesque patterns evolved into an array of esoteric symbols, now far removed from the original Todesmal House emblem.
She looked at the group of students, her gaze passing over all of them until it stopped on Abigail.
Without any gesture, she came forwards, moved towards the professor.
The genius heir of Moriarty was standing tall and stopped in front of the Professor.
I thought she was going to assist the Professor with the next step. However, that wasn't the case. The Professor simply called her to make the concentric rings in the circle react to her.
"Ms. Moriarty, please step into the concentric circles."
She complied as she slowly stepped inside.
Just as the rings began moving toward her, she flinched and stepped back.
The Professor placed a reassuring hand on her back. "It's alright." Her eyes quivered with a fleeting hint of fear, but as quickly as it appeared, it vanished.
She in return gave a faint nod and returned to the circle. This time, the concentric rings slowly moved toward her, engulfing her, changing and morphing her.
The Professor turned to the students. "This is the body-morphing Ritualistic magic of the Usurpers. It alters their anatomy to match their god's desires. Though temporary, this form can generate power far beyond normal limits."
She then turned back to Abigail. "Now, Ms. Moriarty will demonstrate the power."
Abigail's body was being transformed; her once-pretty face becoming dull, with a deep purple hue spreading across it, reminiscent of the Todesmal family, but even more intense. The purple tint and dark circles around her eyes made her resemble a specter, a dead woman. Her hair floated eerily in the air, and the miasma she emitted was abominable. Though it was less potent than Douglas's, it was just as strangely suffocating.
Although human, her form appeared slightly larger than her previous anatomy, giving her a more imposing presence.
Professor facing the students muttered, "Ms. Moriarity, try summoning as a necromancer would."
Abigail released her miasma and began to summon her family's unique creature, Crocoska, a wolf that lingered uneasily in the corner.
I remembered that the Moriarity family stood out as most peculiar, they have a resembling for beast summoners more than traditional necromancers. The creatures they summoned were uniquely bound to them, unlike the usual necromancer practices.
While necromancers used a bond called Eternal Bliss, the Moriarity family employed a different bond known as Beyond-Soul, which they claimed tethered their summons to them for eternity.
In fact, they were more like beast tamers, but without the use of mana.
For them, this creature was more like a pet or a family member for the sake of politeness.
Meanwhile, we necromancers used our summons as tools of war and treated them as such.
From the library books I got to know that the creature Crocoska was a dead entity, bound by the abyssal bond forged by its family centuries ago. What was most remarkable was that this creature served more as a weapon of psychological and mental rather than for direct confrontation. Despite this, the family managed to endure, and with the dwindling power of the other family, they were now rising.
The miasma lingered, slowly attempting to take form. The concentration of dark energy pulsated and convulsed as the creature, Crocoska, began to emerge.
Crocoska, a dimensional being, could only be perceived through peripheral vision or glimpsed in the corners of doors, rooms, and the world itself. While summoning this creature seemed straightforward, looking directly at it was an entirely different challenge.
However, this proved irrelevant as Abigail failed to complete the summoning. The miasma quickly dispersed, its concentration fading and diluting over time.
Abigail's attempt had failed, and frustration darkened her features as the circle's lines dimmed, its glow fading into silence. Professor Margarette clapped her hands softly, the sharp sound drawing the room's attention.
"That is alright," she said with calm steadiness, her voice unwavering despite faint smoke rising from the failed circle. "Now it is time for the others to attempt the alteration. Transform the Usurper's Circle into the Todesmal Sigil."
The students shared uneasy glances before moving forward, the air thick with tension, a lingering mix of distrust and curiosity hanging in their minds.
One student finally broke the silence, his voice uncertain. "Professor, why are we using the Todesmal symbol for the Death God?"
Margarette turned to him, her expression unreadable at first. Then a faint smile tugged at her lips, though her eyes reflected the calm weight of ancient knowledge.
"Because," she began, pacing slowly around the ritual circle, "they are the family closest to the Death God. Their name, Todesmal, means Death Mark. As you should recall from your history lessons, they were the first to receive the Death God's grace."
She paused by the circle, her gloved fingers hovering over its fading runes. "To inscribe their sigil is to invoke the authority they once held. But remember, students, authority without reverence breeds corruption. The Death God does not forgive arrogance."
A serene stillness filled the chamber. The candles flickered gently, and even the faint hum of energy seemed to hold its breath, as if the very air was hanging on her every word.
The chamber no longer felt suffocating, a fact that couldn't be disputed. As the Professor finished speaking, she turned to me with a smile. "I hope you can demonstrate just how closely the Todesmal family is connected to the death god," she said.
Her tone held a trace of mockery, but whatever it was, it managed to draw everyone's disdainful and hateful gaze toward me.
Even the Dark Mages disliked my family. There was no rivalry between us, yet their resentment ran deep. The grudge dated back to the aftermath of the Battle of Rine, when their main house was defeated and subjugated by the Todesmal family. From that day onward, they were forced to serve under our necromancers, bound by oath and blood.