There's Must Something Wrong with My Undeads

In the early morning, frost dyed the mugwort at the cemetery gate, and the pitch-black iron railing looked more forbidding than ever.

In August of 772, when most of the Macalla Basin had yet to harvest the last crop of the year, Heine had to put on his sweater and a thickened coat.

Probably because of Necromancy, autumn always seemed to come earlier to the Bone Burial Ground than other places.

Heine rubbed his icy cheeks and pulled his coat collar tight.

As the first bell rang, he unplugged the bolt, kicked open the iron gate, and, pushing his homemade food cart, left the dorm area right next to the cemetery, heading straight for the cafeteria.

The food cart became the center of attention as soon as it appeared, and the students who had been waiting for it swarmed over like a tide of corpses.

The Mages, who were perennially tainted with death, were mostly expressionless and numb, their body structures damaged by death qi, and suffered irreversible degeneration of taste and other senses, and so on.

But the Bone Burial Ground was just a Necromancer academy, the students were less affected as they were not yet adept at their craft.

So, although they were accustomed to cold food and indifferent to taste, few could resist the steaming hot buns filled with minced meat stir-fried with three kinds of chili peppers.

"Don't crowd, there's plenty today, enough for everyone."

Heine called out perfunctorily, lifted the lid of the pot, and in an instant, more than a dozen gaunt and pale arms reached in, braving the scalding steam.

The necrotized nerve endings felt neither scalding heat nor cold, which, to some extent, could be considered a "benefit" of being tainted by death qi.

On his last day of business, he did not bother to check who did not pay.

In three years, through these "underhanded methods," he not only earned back his tuition fees but also made an extra 60 Gold Coins, about four times the cost of three years' tuition, so he wasn't concerned about these trifles.

The crowd ate the spicy buns with large, gasping breaths, their faces flushed.

The spicy buns weren't delicious, being hot and spicy, and the filling hadn't even got salt in it, but it was enough to stimulate their dull nerves and satisfy the desire to chew.

Heine was somewhat relieved that he had not become like that.

"What are you thinking about?"

The speaker appeared behind him, a mature and elegant woman.

She was wrapped in a thick cotton robe, her black hair neatly coiffed, her neck slender, and whether it was her red eyeshadow or her bouncy, fair skin, she seemed out of place in the Bone Burial Ground.

"Teacher Xiya La? I thought you weren't coming."

From the pocket of his coat, Heine pulled out a warm paper bag containing three buns with regular flavors.

It turned out he could also make something edible for humans.

Xiya La took the breakfast, expressed her thanks, her face showing a mix of regret and embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I really couldn't preserve your student status this year, even though your grades were so good."

"It's not your fault, besides, I only got full marks in your general education and cultural classes. My grades in spells, spellcasting, alchemy may be good, but they're not important. Instead, the Summoning Technique..."

Heine laughed self-deprecatingly, "You know, that's the core reason I was advised to withdraw. The Bone Burial Ground won't tolerate a Necromancer who can't even control a skeleton selling buns in the cafeteria every day."

His gaze passed over Xiya La and settled on a short, stocky old man in a dirty apron behind her.

He looked utterly slovenly, with flies buzzing around him, his eyes filled with poison as he stared at the crowd, especially the two in conversation.

Noticing that he had attracted the man's attention, Hunter immediately bowed his head and pretended to be sweeping.

"What's wrong?"

Xiya La noticed his gaze and glanced back.

"Well, no one wants you gone more than Hunter. Ever since you started selling these pies, no one's been eating his meat sausages and rye bran bread anymore."

Heine responded with an ambiguous smile.

Hunter was the head of the cafeteria and also the general manager of logistics for the academy.

He definitely played a significant role in his rapid expulsion.

The two chatted briefly, with Xiya La being called away by someone else. Before leaving, she instructed, "Wait for me at the gate at noon."

By now, the buns on the food cart were almost sold out, and the students had mostly left. Heine pushed the cart that had been with him for three years to Hunter's side.

"I'll sell you this cart for ten Gold Coins," he said.

"Ten Gold Coins? You're mad, an utterly unreasonable madman!"

Hunter exclaimed, glared at him, and turned to leave.

"If you don't buy it, I'll sell it to someone else for one copper coin, and I'll include a complete tutorial. Then, no one will eat your clean and sanitary rotten sausages."

The old man turned back, his face full of resentment as he glared at him.

"One silver coin, I won't pay more than one silver coin for this pile of junk!"

"Ten silver coins, or I give it away for free," replied Heine.

"You damned bloodsucker!"

Hunter cursed as he threw ten filthy silver coins into the money jar.

"It's yours now, goodbye Mr. Hunter, I wish you good health."

Heine smiled happily; the cart wasn't worth much, he just wanted to disgust the man, nothing more.

"Get lost, the Bone Burial Ground doesn't welcome you!"

...

At noon, the sunlight was bright, but the air remained chill.

The carriage stopped at the head of the bridge, the Bone Burial Ground surrounded by a lake on all sides, this being the only road out.

It was said that this place was originally a battlefield, later turned into a dungeon due to its strategic location difficult to escape from, and many had died within its walls, causing an excess of death qi, hence the subsequent Bone Burial Ground.

The main body of the academy was underground, with a cemetery and student dormitories on the surface, as well as a classical church.

If one stood on the shore and looked out, few would associate this serene lakeshore with Necromancers.

Heine, with his belongings packed, leaned against the carriage, staring blankly at the statues in the graveyard.