Chapter 1

  Family Life

  Necromancy.

  That is the one word everyone uses to describe the DiVoratore family.

  I don’t know how the family first came to be, as we clearly have spirit slaying in our blood, but somewhere along the way something must have changed. Either an ancestor got a conscience, or someone found a way to communicate with our bloodline’s apparent enemy. Regardless of the reason or origin, the family, my family, has now become noted for being the most powerful Necromancers around.

  Yes, the old adage of fighting fire with fire, or in this case fighting spirits with spirits does seem to hold some truth.

  As Necromancers, the DiVoratore make the most sense, as our initial bloodline Skill Soul Sight is listed as uncommon for a good reason. Namely every Necromancer, Divination, and Summoner class all need the Soul Sight skill. Meaning that when a new class is assigned, our bloodline makes it so the DiVoratore have an automatic leg up on the competition.

  While others might have to use their minimal Class Skill slots on Soul Sight, the DiVoratore do not. Meaning that regardless of what grade of Necromancer class we get, we will naturally be more powerful than the competition. This all stems from the fact that Classes, will only offer a certain number of Skill slots based on the rarity of the class being provided.

  All of this is to say that even with the most powerful of class, the most active Skill Slots one can hope to have are 15. That is 5 Basic Slots, which you can use to learn anything. One Personal that has unlimited growth. Then for bloodlines you have an unawakened passive skill, one that is constantly engaged and grows over time. Then the Bloodline Awakened. And finally we add in our class skills which is a maximum of seven and you get the hard cap of 15 Skill Slots.

  There is a catch to this process, as this world has magic, but there is a catch. There isn’t free form casting, no creating new and overly dramatic spells that are perfect for an exact situation. Instead, there is likely a Skill that will need to be practiced and refined that can do a magical effect.

  The primary example of magic, and magic classes that I have seen in use are Necromancy Classes, for obvious reasons. This is why I know a few things.

  What I have learned about Necromancy. Other than it being gross and causing your skin to age and wither far faster than normal, until you resemble a walking corpse by your late forties; there is another aspect of Necromancy.

  See I believe that Necromancy is a series of classes that allow you control over the Spirit first, with Mind control elements thrown in.

  Take for instance why our family already having the uncommon Soul Sight skill MAXED out by the age of five is so important, as a Necromantic family. The reason this is important is that it allows us to immediately pivot ourselves to the next Skill Soul Speak, where we can hear and converse with the spirits of the undead.

  Now why would someone want to converse with a spirit? Good question, other than not having any friends outside our family because we look like we carry the lingering plague, and our only friends could be spirits who would soon accept us to their fold. The real reason is that Spirits can make great spies. Spirits can hide in the walls, or in various places that no one would tend to look, where they can listen in on personal conversations, or witness actions you take.

  Speaking of which, I myself have one spirit clearly trying to hide its presence in my wall. This is both the blessing and the curse of being a DiVoratore family member. It is a blessing to know that members of my family still think I am worthy of being spied upon, but a curse in that the think they can get away with harassing me like this. Fortunately, I have developed counter measures for this very act.

  I have made it know to my family members and the residing spirits of this house that my room is off limits from such snooping. Thus, when I see them, I make sure to act without mercy.

  Part of the trick is to make it look like you didn’t see them eerily glowing through your wall. That or the fact that they don’t quite realize that even if their eye sockets are behind the wall, their chest, extended cheeks and mouth all extend forward from the wall.

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  This must be a newly enslaved spirit by one of my family. I say this as the older ones tend to at least know to pull all the way back into the wall. However, the one does not have that basic knowledge, a shame.

  Now there are a few ways I could deal with this, I could charge an object with a threefold overload of Mana to ensure that my Awakened Bloodline Skill Soul Devour, was fully charged and would hit the intended target. But that is wasteful, as it uses three points of Mana, one to charge the initial item, one to empower the object with actual Soul Devour attack, and one to coat said attack with a shell that could survive a small distance.

  I’m pretty sure I am somehow cheating with this external delivery method, but it is a Rare skill and it is expected to be able to withstand some level of chicanery. That said, Mana isn’t cheap. While I could be considered a prodigy at my age with a Mana score of 31.1, it still takes time to regain each mote of mana. At roughly one hour to regain any Mana spent, using Mana willy-nilly, especially without having a class that helps with Mana absorption or Mana processing causes most actions I could take to be as efficient as possible.

  Fortunately, I am also very quick and used to hiding my true intentions. That is why, I feign ignorance, nonchalantly taking off my bookbag, placing it on its customary chair. Then taking off my school blazer, and draping it over the back of the same backpack. From there, I slowly go around the room, looking for something.

  “Gah? Where is it?” I play up, thinking I would win an Emmy for my performance, and wondering if Acting should be a Skill I try in the future, once my Skill slots open up. I hold that thought for just a moment, until finally I draw to where I am within five feet of the still hiding spirit. I could feel it peeking out at me every so often, but I always managed to be facing away from it, when it did so. Only for it to quickly scoot back into the wall and try to hide as perfectly still as possible.

  That’s when I pounced.

  Having used Soul Devour for hundreds of times, the Skill comes naturally to me. I’m so used to it, that I don’t let it express beyond my glowing hands. Then using a speed and coordination that were likely beyond this spirit’s mortal body I reach out and swipe down, the fingers of my right hand scraping against my wall, and sliding down until I meet a spiritual resistance, at which point I grab and pull downward. Simultaneously, while my right hand is swiping down, digging deep into the exposed spirit’s ribcage, my left hand is sliding upwards and grabbing just under the open groove of the spirit’s jawbone.

  Normally there wouldn’t have been enough area to grab the chin with, but the violent downward yanking motion, forced the spirit out of the wall.

  Once both hands have a firm empowered grasp, it is only a matter of pulling and leverage as I grab, pull, and twist the spirit out of the wall, over my head, and slam to the ground.

  Pop.

  A faint popping sound is heard as I force the spirit free of the wall, but that doesn’t matter. The only thing that does matter is that this is likely a newer spirit and thus its wall parsing Skill is likely on cooldown. A fact I desperately need at the moment, as I slam the spirit onto the floor.

  Thud.

  There is a solid bang as the spirit’s body, now made solid from my skill, strikes against the floor. I keep my left hand on the mouth as I need the spirit to remain silent. While I don’t have the Spirit Communication Skill, all of the adults of my family do. Meaning I need to be quick in removing this spy before he can call for his Master’s help, and I need to dispose of the witness. That is when I strike, taking my right hand that is still grabbing hold of the collarbone and next two ribs down on the spirit’s left hand side, I twist my wrist, then strike down violently.

  Snap, snap, pop.

  I feel the all too familiar sensation of spirit bones cracking from my force. It doesn’t take much, as spirits, especially newer spirits, are weak. The amount of force required here is the equivalent of what would be needed to snap a small dry twig you’d find in the woods.

  Using the momentum, I drive my right hand until it is completely flat to the ground.

  Crack.

  This time I feel the Spirit’s spine breaking as well. Only now do I see it mostly go limp. Hands that had moments ago been rising up to try to grab my wrist and push me away, fell lifelessly to the ground. I don’t stop though, years of practice have told me it is not over, until the message tells me that it is over.

  That is when I free my right hand, more twig like structures cutting and scraping at my hand as I remove it from the fractured spiritual ribcage. Then moving quickly I raise my right hand up, and provide an open palm strike to the forehead of the incapacitated spirit.

  Poof.

  That strike was apparently enough to finally finish the spirit off, as I felt it begin to hiss apart like a broken balloon. A silent balloon, at least to me.

  Though I guess that type of sound is recognizable to some people as I hear a sudden opening of my door.

  Knock-push.

  There at my doorway is Mithanial DiVoratore, my older cousin, who just received his Rare Necromantic Mastermind class.

  This is another reason why I need to leave here as quickly as possible. For we live in the estate owned and operated by my Grandfather, who had five children, three of which still remain and vie for power enough to take control of the DiVoratore estate and inevitably push their siblings out. As such, each child is at a constant feud with the others, where the children are set against one another.

  My arrival here is no accident.

  As I arrived after the original owner of my body died during a purposefully botched Bloodline Awakening ceremony. Still fuzzy on the details, but given the way Mithanial always directs most of his attention towards me, I’m pretty sure he was involved in some way.

  Seeing Mithanial, I know I need to push forward and pretend like nothing happened, despite my clearly seeing the notification.

  “Rather rude not to wait for my reply, what happened if I was in the middle of undressing?” I state coldly, event raising one hand over my chest to force his gaze to the aforementioned area. A natural instinct that anyone would follow, but my words and actions all but force his eyes to glance in that direction.

  “What? Huh, I—no.” Mithanial declares as he flushes with embarrassment, before turning his already paling face infused with bright red streaks away.

  Huh, Necromancers can blush, good to know. I think to myself as I begin to stand up.

  “So other than trying to catch me while changing, is there a reason why you are here?” I ask.

  With that Mithanial looks shocked and begins to stammer before finally answering, “What? I—no. I just heard a thud and wanted to see if you were okay. Also, your mother is calling for you.”

  Mithanial is what is referred to as a failed branch member. His father died of illness, shortly after he was born, forever removing him from the running for family head. But grandfather is kindhearted and lets him stay. At least the kindhearted aspect is what he tries to push. In actuality, it is a sign of power and a reminder of what is at stake should a head lose. The reminder is that, if you lose, your children will still remain to suffer and turn to effective slaves of the other branches, until a new head is chosen. At which time, the remaining children will either be killed, or if lucky allowed to leave the house.

  “Mother?” I ask.

  “Yes, she is waiting in the parlor with grandfather.”

  At that I pause, wondering why grandfather would be there? It’s not a major event, we don’t celebrate birthdays. And even if we did, the only date I would really consider would be the date from a little over eleven years ago when I transmigrated into this body. But what could they want?

  Had they finally come to throw me out?

  It would take grandfather being present for me to be kicked out, so that might actually be the case.

  “Thank you,” I state, getting to my feet and trying to compose myself before going to the firing squad.

  Mithanial just nods, a slightly nervous tension in his body.

  I can see that he is still ogling my body, but he does have the wherewithal to look embarrassed afterwards and turning away.

  “Right this way,” Mithanial states as he turns and begins walking down the hallway, apparently not even waiting for me to catch up.