Grandson Of The Holy Emperor Is A Necromancer - Chapter 127

My GPA is lower than a slime’s mana.My name is Atheron il Ataraxia, and I’m the walking disgrace of the Royal Academy of Magic.I’ve been held back twice, my essays are used in class as examples of how not to cast spells, and professors sigh in relief when I don’t blow something up during morning lectures.Truth is? I don’t even like this world.I was summoned. A girl from this world pulled me in like a card from a cursed deck, and now I’m stuck living here. Attending classes, battling evil spirits, and dealing with stuck-up nobles whose names are longer than my backstory.But something’s off. My mana doesn’t behave like theirs. The world listens when I speak. And the whispers I hear at night? They’re getting louder.They say evil spirits wander through Ashgrad under the light of the moon. And I think they’re looking for me.They think I’m a failure.Maybe I am.But if this cursed academy wants to survive the next full moon, they might just have to rely on me — the last-ranked summon with a dangerous secret.

After dying a pathetic death as an overworked office drone, I woke up reincarnated as Archer—the bastard prince of the Brutish Empire.My existence is a royal secret as My father, the King, would rather pretend I don't exist. My half siblings get royal treatment while I'm hidden away like a dirty secret.But I have a secret of my own. I was OP.By age two, I realized monsters flee from my stupidly OP mana. By age ten my mana could level cities—if I dare to unleash it.When my half-sister is kidnapped by the demon king, I finally decided to step out of hiding to become the strongest in this new world.

In the myriad realms, legends rise and fall in the countless eras.

Every hero starts with power. He started with dust.One moment, the classroom buzzed with teenage chatter. The next, silence fell. Students blinked—and opened their eyes in an ancient hall carved from gold and marble. The air shimmered with divine magic. And at its center stood a goddess—flawless, proud, unbelievably beautiful and wrapped in flowing white.It was a divine summoning performed by a divine goddess.Among them was Vritra… and his stunningly beautiful mother.While others received blessings, powerful physiques and grand titles, Vritra was given a skill so pathetic it made even the goddess wrinkle her nose. An ability—so pitifully weak that it drew laughter, scorn, and even disgust. But that wasn't the worst part.Betrayed and cornered inside the labyrinth, Vritra had two choices: die… or fall into the death trap.A death canopy with no exit and no chance of survival, the only option was to slaughter the demons endlessly for months.Finally!! He forced his dormant skill to awaken, after killing thousands and hundreds of thousands demons and devouring them, becoming a broken ability.******White robes. Cold arroganceA sinful revenge.White robes can stain. And in the dark, even divinity can moan.And then there was his mo— guilt in her breath, shame in her eyes, whispering apologies between gasps in her son's ear, doing what had to be done… for both their sakes.