Chapter 95: Mephistopheles: What Sins Did I Commit In My Past Life?

Low-tier Wisdom Magic — [Information Mimicry].
Its effect is to simulate the mana signature of any kind of magic energy, allowing the caster to hide their spellcasting or mislead opponents by faking different magical auras.

However, this spell is of little use to the Wisdom School itself—it doesn’t provide combat advantages or analytical power.
At best, it’s a small trick… or in this case, a way to entertain a child.

To any master of magical development, a spell of this level could be made almost casually.
Jiang Cha was simply taking advantage of her Innate Magic’s computational power and the effect of [Cognitive Overlap], letting her achieve results on par with veteran magic theorists.

In truth, the processing power she used was far beyond what a human should handle.
But does that make Jiang Cha any less of a monster?

Of course not.

What kind of first- or second-year witch can just casually develop a new spell from scratch?
At that age, most are still learning low-tier spells, not creating them!

Mephisto silently cursed in her heart—her “investment” in Jiang Cha was nowhere near enough to match the girl’s potential.
What’s one necromancy skill tree compared to a future archmage in the making?
If Jiang Cha had been born into the Carell family, she’d have been taken directly under the clan head’s wing.

—And the head of the Carell family is also a Great Sage.

Let’s be clear: every witch admitted to Aetheris Magic Academy is among the most talented of the witch society’s youth.
Even the scions of ancient noble witch families come to the top academies to build connections.
The students here aren’t just gifted—they’re the future of the witch world, geniuses among geniuses.

And yet Jiang Cha, a girl who’s only been awake for four months, was suppressing this whole crowd of prodigies and showing limitless potential.
If that doesn’t make her a monster, what does?

“I’ve put together a small team. Our goal is to win the Academy Fun Cup.”

Mephisto took a sip of tea, trying to stay calm as she watched Jiang Cha laugh and play with Violet—but her hands were trembling.

“One teammate’s already a monster—
The secret child of the First Great Sage herself.
Seventeen years old in body, but with the mind of a nine-year-old.
She’s about to become a full necromancer witch—
practically the designated heir to the Lord of Death.”

“The other’s also a monster—
A first-year who can already cast eighth-tier necromancy,
multiclassing across all major schools,
developing an entirely new discipline on her own,
and inventing a spell in five seconds flat.
Oh, and she might not even be a year old yet.”

Mephisto, being Mottel’s niece and cousin to Lili, knew far more about Jiang Cha’s situation than most.
A while ago, her cousin Molly had complained that her mother (Jiang Cha’s master, Mottel) suddenly acted like she’d won the lottery—calling every old friend to brag about her new disciple.
It took seven or eight Great Sages and a three-day retreat to calm her down.

That’s how Mephisto first learned about Jiang Cha’s true background.
Otherwise, she’d never have invested so decisively in the girl.

“I’d better call Mother tonight and ask what to do.”

After a long while of thinking, Mephisto admitted this was beyond her authority.
She’d just have to let her Great Sage mother make the decision.

The main issue was Mottel’s exile from the Carell family.
If she were still part of it, the moment she took Jiang Cha as a disciple, the family would’ve poured every resource they had into supporting her—no hesitation.

—Because that’s how noble families invest.

It’s like venture capital:
You might lose money on a hundred projects,
but if the 101st succeeds, the returns are astronomical.

And in the witch world, what could be a more profitable investment than a common-born witch with absurd talent?
Out of a thousand, even if ten succeed and one becomes a Great Sage, that’s a jackpot.

Low risk, high reward, all about timing and judgment.
Who wouldn’t play that game?

But Jiang Cha was different.

She had some ties to the Carells—through her teacher—but in truth, they were estranged.
Her master, Mottel, had been expelled from the family; calling them enemies wouldn’t be far off.

At least Mephisto still maintained contact, trying to coax her aunt back home.
But in such a delicate situation, she couldn’t officially request family funding.
So all she could do was maintain her personal connection with Jiang Cha, and let the elders decide the rest.

“Senpai, aren’t you coming to play too?”

After nearly three hours of silent brooding, Mephisto was startled by Jiang Cha’s cheerful voice.
She looked up—and almost fainted.

The hundred-square-meter living room was packed full of undead creatures.
Endless white bones jutted up from the floor, feeding energy into newly spawning undead.
The scene looked straight out of a forbidden spell—somewhere between Pandemonium March and Undead Cataclysm.

“W–What are you doing!?”

The white-haired noble witch instinctively reached for the emergency alarm, ready to summon security in case these two lunatics blew the building up.
Because, truth be told, once a witch entered research mode, she stopped fearing death entirely.

Jiang Cha was like that.
Violet was like that.
And Mephisto herself… was no exception.

But there were degrees of madness.
Elementalists and alchemists preferred explosions.
Mystics and potion witches tended to create bizarre side effects.
Shapeshifters and mechanists? Giant robots, of course.

And the most notorious among them all—
were necromancers, and witches who dabbled in everything dangerous.

Because their “research failures”… tended to cause apocalypses.

And right now, Mephisto looked at Jiang Cha—master of every school—and Violet—a pure necromancer prodigy—and felt a cold sweat trickle down her temple.

“Mother… I think I’ve just witnessed an even crazier combination of professions.
Such a shame we’ll never get to share tea again and gossip about witch disasters.”

“Oh, we’re just studying undead construction techniques!
You should come take a look, Senpai—it’ll help with the tournament!”

Jiang Cha’s smile was dazzling.

“Yeah! Come play with us, Mephisto-sis!”

Violet’s eyes sparkled.

Mephisto could only smile stiffly.
Because she could already see the abomination they were creating begin to shift—breaking apart, reforming, merging—
into something massive and terrifying.

A super undead, forged from Violet’s necromantic theory and Jiang Cha’s encyclopedic magical knowledge.
Its mana output rivaled two or three full-fledged witches combined.

“Rejoice, Violet! Our glorious creation declares her birth!”

The black-haired witch raised her arms dramatically as the room trembled, red eyes gleaming like a dark empress at the end of days.

“Rejoice! She will destroy the world!”

chirped Violet, hopping with delight, her innocent voice declaring apocalypse like a nursery rhyme.

Anyone else would’ve laughed.
Mephisto didn’t.

Feeling that rising mana pressure—
feeling that monstrosity growing stronger—
she only wanted to run.

The academy might forgive these two.
One had the Great Sage’s protection, the other was a born prodigy.
But she? She was just an ordinary noble witch!

Please, have some mercy on me!

Her elegant face twisted in despair.
At last, she understood—there was something worse than babysitting a deranged necromancer child:
babysitting her and a fearless, genius polymath who’d been alive for four months!

And worse yet—their mana reserves were enough to fund the apocalypse.

This wasn’t additive chaos—this was exponential!

As the colossal undead broke through the ceiling, Jiang Cha sat comfortably on its shoulder with Violet, sipping a drink and snacking, shouting orders proudly.

Mephisto finally hit the alarm without hesitation.
She was done.

Even one Violet was beyond her control.
Add Jiang Cha—and their combined creation? Forget it.

The noble witch lay back on the sofa, sipping tea as the ground shook underfoot, staring up through the broken ceiling at the rolling clouds above—
the picture of calm resignation.

In theory, even necromancers shouldn’t be able to create undead stronger than themselves.
If they could, summoning magic would be obsolete.

But Mephisto had supplied high-grade necromantic materials, and Jiang Cha had supplied absurd theoretical knowledge.
The result? The strongest undead construct possible below the rank of Great Witch.

Violet’s home was in the quiet southern campus, far from the dorms—which was why Jiang Cha dared to go along with her insanity.
She figured: worst case, they wreck a dorm or a forest.
The professors would drag them in and give them detention—three to five days at most.
Her “sentence” as an accomplice would be light.

The fines? Those would just be sent to Violet’s mother.

And besides, this project’s knowledge-gain value was worth more than ten thousand commissions combined.

What she didn’t account for was—

“What the hell is that!?”

The first to arrive was Carol, and the moment she saw the giant undead—clearly student-level craftsmanship but with Great Witch-tier power—she froze, then spotted Jiang Cha.

“Oh, you little brat—still daring to cause trouble for your teacher!?”

“Ahaha… heh…”

Jiang Cha shrank her neck, laughing awkwardly.

In truth, what she and Violet were doing was practically an Aetheris tradition.
The academy’s philosophy was all about freedom and self-expression.

Meaning:
If you made something new and wanted to test it in combat—go ahead.
You could file an application for a mentor-supervised test… or just let it loose and see what happened.

Nearby mentors would intervene to stop you, of course.
And if you somehow defeated one?
You’d still get punished—but also receive a massive reward.

Not that that happened often.
In Aetheris Academy’s century-long history, only a handful of students had ever succeeded.
Almost all of them later became Great Sages—and one, even a Grand Sage.

“So, you’re already pulling stunts like this in first year?
Trying to surpass your teacher, huh?”

…Because yes—Jiang Cha’s teacher, Mottel, had done the exact same thing in her student days.

“What’s going on?”

Professor Filakimir arrived next, frowning at the towering undead.

“Our ‘star pupil’ decided to show off. Don’t intervene—I’ll handle this one.”

“Fine. Careful, though.”

“Please, like I’d lose to that.”

Unlucky didn’t even begin to cover it—Jiang Cha had managed to draw both Carol, head of the dueling club and a top-10 combat witch, and Filakimir, the strongest witch in the entire academy.

If it had been Diana, the academic mentor, Jiang Cha might’ve stood a chance at earning the “defeated-a-mentor” reward.

But these two?
No chance.

“Brace yourself, brat. Even if it hurts, don’t you dare cry!”

Carol’s first volley of fire magic slammed into the undead giant, shaking it violently.
Violet, far from frightened, squealed with excitement.

“Let’s fight back, Jiang Cha!”

Her eyes sparkled with pure joy.

“…Fine.”

Jiang Cha sighed, activating her Full Power Mode.

The undead giant they’d built had many flaws:
It was massive, hence slow.
Its fused souls made it unintelligent.
Its craftsmanship was crude, limiting endurance.

But it was never meant to fight alone.

The ground split open beneath their feet, revealing a hidden control chamber.
Jiang Cha and Violet jumped in, taking their positions:
Violet maintained necrotic mana to keep the body stable,
Jiang Cha converted multiple mana types to power its auxiliary systems—
and, with her brain running at full throttle, took over command functions.

Together, they activated their ultimate creation:

⚙️ Ultimate Necro-Armament — Undead Mecha Titan! ⚙️