I Became The Academy Necromancer - Chapter 275: The Qualification

She, the tribe leader of the Miaojiang witch tribe, was reborn as a pitiful little girl that everyone could bully.

“You dragged me into this world. Now you kneel in it.” — Tim SlokovBy day, Tim Slokov was a quiet office drone. By night, a ruthless online critic of fantasy novels. But when a mysterious force transmigrates him into the dying body of an elven outcast—doomed and powerless—Tim realizes he’s become the tragic background character of someone else’s story.Only he refuses to die quietly.Denied justice, Tim is granted a single gift: the Shattered Necromancy System, a broken power fueled by death itself.[Seek Me, O Death — Passive]: Every kill becomes a servant. Every soul feeds his army.[Death Embrace — Active]: He becomes what he commands—gaining the power of his dead.[Arise — Active]: The battlefield becomes his stage, where his fallen rise again.Armed with cursed power, Tim must evolve himself—and his ever-growing legion of the dead—to claw his way up a world that wants him erased. But vengeance is only the beginning. As his strength grows, so does the truth behind his forced arrival... and the god-like force that wants him broken.Tim isn’t here to play the hero.He’s here to rewrite fate—one death at a time.

When a satellite photo of the Arctic was sent back to the countries, the people of the earth were shocked by the content of the photo.They saw thousands of wolves in the Arctic, which even included hundreds of polar bears and Arctic silver foxes, all uniformly looking obedient.On the top of the snowy mountain, a giant Arctic wolf, whose size exceeded everyone's imagination, was looking down on the Arctic ice field from a high position.

When the admissions office of Witch Academy called, I was stunned—I had been accepted into a school I never imagined I could touch.Yes, I am a boy and it is an all-girls’ academy, but they did not mind, so I saw no reason to object. I had applied secretly, without telling my family, just to take a chance.But as soon as those striking seniors greeted us newcomers—pressing every boy against the wall with a knowing smile—I realized things were about to spin out of control.“Oh, come now, you sweet little freshman,” one of them said smoothly, her voice full of mischief. “Don’t make this difficult for me, your big sis. Swallow this core and transform into a witch like me, alright?”She held the glowing orb before us, half-threatening, half-teasing, almost inviting the new boys to react. It was clear she enjoyed it—the blend of fear and resistance in their expressions. Our unease seemed to be her personal amusement.After all, they only had this opportunity once a year.