No! I don't want to be a Super Necromancer!

[Death Energy Blast - Fire a compressed wave of death energy.]

The description of the skill was very simple. It was the exact skill that the demon mecha had unleashed earlier.

But two things immediately struck Damien Bloodbane as interesting.

The first was that he could "discover" new skills by devouring the Death Energies of those who wielded them. 

The mere thought of it sent a faint chill down his spine, not from fear but from the sheer weight of potential pressing against his mind.

And in that case, he had an added incentive to search out the so-called "Devil Apostles". 

Damien Bloodbane was sorely lacking in skills to apply his death energy to. The more skills he had, the more options he would have in battle.

The second thing that stood out was the word "compressed" in the skill description.

The concept of compression took root in his mind almost instantly, weaving itself into possibilities. 

Explosion, propulsion, deflection, amplification, and even restoration. 

If he could somehow learn to manipulate mana to somehow compress them, perhaps he would be able to "discover" his own skills rather than wait to absorb them from others.

"Interesting. I guess I'll have my hands full in college trying to uncover these things." Damien Bloodbane thought to himself.

His eyes drifted toward the beautiful white mecha, its polished armor gleaming under the fractured light of the battlefield. 

It radiated an aura of sleek, lethal perfection. Every curve of its frame whispered both elegance and raw power. The mana coursing through its body hummed faintly, a deep, almost predatory vibration that he could feel in his bones even from a distance.

Kitiara Merje's mecha was the most awesome White-Grade Light Mecha Damien Bloodbane had ever laid eyes on. 

But his gaze did not stop there. He followed the outline of the cockpit until his eyes landed on the pilot.

A stunningly sexy, middle-aged woman whose form was wrapped in a combat suit that did absolutely nothing to conceal her dangerously alluring physique. The soft sheen of sweat on her skin glistened under the dim light, amplifying her natural allure. Her golden hair fell in loose waves, framing a face that was equal parts deadly and inviting.

At that moment, Damien Bloodbane couldn't help but stare and swallow his saliva.

Even with years of super soldier training, his body betrayed him. His blood ran hot, his pulse a steady drum in his ears. He was still a young man, and at this moment, his hormones were waging war against his discipline.

Yet, he truly had no idea which one he was salivating over more—the sexy woman or the stunning white mecha.

By the gods! Both were desirable!

By the time he regained control of his senses and snapped his gaze back up to Kitiara Merje's face instead of… elsewhere, it was too late.

She had already noticed his stare.

A smirk played at the edges of her lips.

But instead of getting pissed off, she merely chuckled, the low, sultry sound which sent an involuntary shiver down his spine.

"You're too young and too weak to be lusting after me, boy." Her voice was smooth, confident and laced with amusement. "Give it a few years and a few thousand kills, then maybe…"

Kitiara Merje smiled, her expression dangerous yet tantalizing, a promise and a challenge wrapped in one.

"Cough! Erhm. What's a Devil Apostle, Sir?" Damien Bloodbane quickly turned to Ardan Flameborn, eager to change the topic.

Ardan Flameborn chuckled lightly as his eyes studied the incoming Europeans, concluding that he still had a few moments to spare before they arrived.

"The Devil Apostles," Ardan began, his tone shifting into something heavier. "are the most devout servants of the Devil King."

"The bastard king of assholes." Kitiara Merje interjected as she drifted closer to them to present a more united front to the Europeans. 

"Yes. A bigger bastard than most, but also a bastard with one of the biggest guns in the world. He appeared very suddenly last year in New Zealand, and quickly took over. He invaded Australia the following month, and declared it as his territory.

The Court of Ages placed him 11th on the Golden Ranking, and he is named the Sovereign of Death." Ardan Flameborn said solemnly. 

"Sovereign of Death?" Damien Bloodbane raised his eyebrow slightly in surprise.

Wasn't that what his system called him?

[Welcome, Damian Bloodbane, Sovereign of Death]

That was the system's exact words to him when it first appeared. 

"Yes. He wields the very rare Death Energy. His 13 Apostles all wield the same energy. The one we killed earlier was one of the weakest Apostles - the Demon Apostle. Ranked 13th." Kitiara Merje explained. 

"Are all the Apostles hybrids who extensively combine the use of mecha and mana?" Damien Bloodbane asked.

"No. Hybrids are for weaklings." Kitiara Merje's eyes gleamed as she gave Damien Bloodbane a strange and meaningful smile.

"Cough. Yes, at the higher levels, it would be better to pick one discipline and focus." Ardan Flameborn's voice took on a sudden air of forced confidence. "That is why we have the War God College and the Pearl Institute. BUT! For promising youths, it would be better to have a solid foundation in both! In fact, this is the latest train of thought that uh, the uh, government! Is advocating. Cough. Hahaha!" 

His words were, of course, far from being able to convince anybody.

"Uh boss. I am no expert on human beings. But usually when dragons speak that way, it means that they are lying. Just telling you." Fatty nudged Damien Bloodbane conspiratorially and "whispered" in a voice which was loud enough for half a block of people to hear. 

Damien Bloodbane rolled his eyes at Fatty. But he was no fool, he immediately realized that some sort of deal was in place regarding his involvement in the two academies.

"Hahaha! Enough nonsense." Ardan let out another awkward laugh before seizing the opportunity to change the subject. "The Europeans are here. Kit, you do the talking."

Without hesitation, he immediately shoved the job to Kitiara Merje.

"With pleasure." Kitiara Merje smiled sweetly, a slow, deliberate curve of her lips that sent a subtle chill up Damien Bloodbane's spine.

He instantly recognized it. 

Even the most seasoned killers could not kill at the drop of a hat without first getting into the right mindset and emotional state.

Most of the time, it would be a change in countenance, a sharpening of the eyes, or a clenching of a fist. And each time, such an action would be accompanied by an appearance of killing intent.

It may be a smile in her case, but there was no mistaking the flash of killing intent that appeared in her eyes. 

As someone who had faced countless killers in every situation imaginable, it was something which Damien Bloodbane had seen millions of times.

There was no mistaking it.

Kitiara Merje had bad intentions towards the incoming Europeans.

Very, very bad indeed.