CHAPTER 75: NECRO ARCH MAGUS GRIMOIRE III

Fenric’s expression didn’t change, though his silver eyes glinted faintly. "Exactly. And if you already know the consequence, don’t repeat it."

He gestured for Aria to begin again. She knelt beside her assigned skeleton, her hands steady this time. The dark threads of mana flowed smoothly into the bones, weaving through joints and sockets until the figure rose upright with surprising grace. It moved two careful steps, then held its balance like a soldier at attention.

Aria looked over her shoulder, a hint of pride slipping through. "See? Rhythm. Not force."

Laxin squatted next to his own pile of bones, muttering, "Yeah, yeah, rhythm. Got it." He pressed his palm to the sternum, and mana surged outward like a wave.

The skeleton jerked upright all at once—arms flailing, legs stiff. It looked less like a soldier and more like someone panicking in a crowded market.

"Control, Laxin!" Fenric barked.

"I am controlling it!" he snapped back, struggling to guide it. The skeleton staggered forward, arms windmilling wildly, before crashing straight into Aria’s stable construct.

Both collapsed in a heap, bones scattering like dice across the floor.

Aria pinched her nose. "Unbelievable."

Fenric exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing. "If your goal was sabotage, you’ve mastered it."

Laxin raised both hands. "Hey, at least mine stood this time! Progress!"

Aria shot him a glare. "Progress toward killing my skeleton."

Despite himself, Fenric’s lips curved faintly. "Enough. Both of you again. From the start."

Hours passed in that cycle: anchor, stabilize, collapse, repeat. Sweat dampened their clothes, mana bled from their cores, and yet—slowly—results began to emerge.

By evening, Aria had a skeleton that could march in a full circle without falling apart. Laxin, after countless failures, finally coaxed his bones into holding steady for ten full minutes.

He collapsed on the floor beside his creation, grinning. "Look at that. He’s still standing. I might actually be good at this."

The skeleton wobbled once, then fell over onto him with a hollow clonk.

"Or not," Aria said, smirking.

Fenric chuckled softly, closing the grimoire. "Even failure teaches more than success, if you’re willing to see it. Tomorrow—we begin coordination. One mind guiding more than one body."

Laxin groaned, still buried under bones. "More than one? I can barely handle one drunk skeleton."

Aria smiled faintly, brushing sweat from her brow. "Then tomorrow should be fun."

Fenric’s silver gaze lingered on the scattered bones for a moment longer before he spoke, voice calm but edged with iron.

"Fun is not the word, Aria. Tomorrow we will test discipline. If you cannot command two constructs with clarity, they will devour each other’s flow of mana—and then you."

Laxin sat bolt upright, bones still dangling from his shoulders. "Wait, wait. Devour me? As in—rip me apart? Or, like, chew on my soul a little?"

"Both are possible," Fenric said without a blink.

Aria chuckled under her breath. "At least you’d make an interesting lesson."

"Ha-ha," Laxin muttered, dusting a femur off his head. "I’d rather not become your cautionary tale, thanks."

Fenric rose to his feet, sliding the grimoire shut with a resonant snap. "Then rest. Tomorrow, you’ll each attempt to bind two skeletons simultaneously. Balance of flow, rhythm of command, and most importantly—split focus. The true art of necromancy is not in raising the dead, but in ruling them."

The next morning, the training chamber felt heavier than before—like the air itself remembered last night’s failures. Piles of bones were arranged neatly in twos, one set for each student.

Aria inhaled deeply, grounding herself. Her palms pressed against both sternums, mana flowing into each simultaneously. Two skeletons shuddered, then rose together—one jerky, one smooth. She frowned, adjusting her rhythm. Slowly, they steadied into unison, taking synchronized steps like paired dancers.

Laxin, meanwhile, was already sweating. He slammed mana into both skeletons at once, and predictably, chaos erupted. One skeleton shot upright and saluted the ceiling. The other spun in a full circle and collapsed flat.

"Great teamwork," Aria quipped, her constructs marching neatly past his disaster.

Laxin grit his teeth. "Shut it. I’ve got this." He forced his will outward again, struggling to divide his focus. One skeleton began to rise. The other shook violently, bones rattling like dice in a cup. Then—pop!—the skull flew clean off, smacking Laxin square in the nose.

"OW! Son of a—!" He toppled backward, clutching his face as blood trickled out.

Aria actually burst out laughing this time, nearly losing her own control. "Oh spirits—you’ve been head-butted by your own skeleton!"

Fenric’s lips curved in the faintest smirk, though his tone remained measured. "Better the head than the heart. Again."

Groaning, Laxin shoved the skull aside and tried again, muttering curses.

Hours dragged by in trial and error. Aria managed to make her pair move in clumsy but coordinated patrols, weaving through the room like soldiers on a drill. Laxin... after much swearing, bone collisions, and two more bloody noses, finally achieved a breakthrough.

Both of his skeletons stood at once. They took one shaky step forward, then another. Laxin’s eyes lit up. "Yes! Yes, look at them—perfect symmetry!"

And then one tripped. Right into the other. Both collapsed in a heap, dragging Laxin down with them.

"Perfect symmetry," Aria deadpanned, arms crossed.

Fenric finally allowed himself a small, genuine chuckle. "It seems your soldiers march best in the afterlife, Laxin. Tomorrow—we test combat drills. Pray you survive them."

The next day dawned with an ominous hush, as though the castle itself braced for what was about to unfold.

Fenric led them not to the training chamber, but to a courtyard ringed in blackstone walls. Sunlight fell harsh and unmerciful, illuminating rows of skeletal remains already lined up like recruits awaiting inspection.

"This," Fenric said, his voice steady and commanding, "is where your constructs cease being toys and begin being weapons." His silver gaze cut into them both. "Skeletons without purpose are bones waiting to betray you. Today, we instill purpose—through combat."

Aria’s expression sharpened, her usual wry amusement dimming into focus. Laxin, however, rubbed the bridge of his still-bruised nose."Combat?" he echoed warily. "As in—against each other? Or against the pile of corpses staring at me like they want revenge?"

Fenric ignored the question. With a flick of his wrist, mana pulsed outward. A set of bones at his feet knit together with terrifying speed, rising into a skeleton armed with a rusted sword. Its hollow sockets locked onto Laxin.

"Lesson one," Fenric said. "Your constructs must fight for

you before they can fight with you."

Aria, calm as a lake, pressed her palms to her skeletons. Both rose swiftly, a faint shimmer of mana linking them to her. "I’m ready."

Her constructs advanced toward Fenric’s skeleton. At first, their movements were stiff, but her commands came sharp and steady: strike, parry, press. The clash of bone against rusted steel echoed across the courtyard. Though her rhythm faltered twice, she quickly adjusted, the pair of skeletons holding their own.

Laxin, meanwhile, was already sweating buckets."Alright, you two bags of bones," he muttered, pushing mana into his own pair. "Don’t embarrass me this time."

One skeleton rose smoothly. The other flopped onto its side and gave what could only be described as a bone-rattling shrug."Really?!" Laxin groaned.

The standing skeleton turned its head toward him, cocked it at an odd angle, then raised both arms like a toddler asking to be picked up.

Aria burst out laughing mid-command, nearly losing control of her fighters. "Oh gods—your skeleton wants a hug!"

"Shut up, Aria!" Laxin snapped, though his ears flushed red. "It’s... it’s a combat stance!"

Fenric didn’t even bother hiding his smirk this time. "If that is your warrior’s stance, Laxin, may the gods pity your enemies."

Desperate, Laxin shoved harder with his mana. The second skeleton finally stumbled upright—only to immediately trip forward, tackling its partner in what looked suspiciously like an enthusiastic embrace. Both crashed to the ground in a tangled heap.

Laxin dragged his hands down his face. "I swear they’re conspiring against me."

Fenric’s tone cut in like a blade. "They are not conspiring. You are failing. The dead reflect their master’s will. If they flail, it is because your intent is fractured. If they cling to each other, it is because you cannot command them apart. The failure is yours."

Silence followed. Even Aria sobered, watching Fenric with wide eyes.

For the first time, Laxin didn’t joke back. His shoulders sagged, but his jaw tightened with resolve. "...Then I’ll fix it."

Fenric inclined his head once, approving. "Good. Because next—your skeletons will not fight each other. They will fight mine."

At his words, five more skeletons stirred from the bone piles, rising with eerie precision. Each one carried a weapon, each one radiated his flawless control. Together, they marched forward like an army.

Aria’s breath hitched. Laxin paled.

Fenric folded his arms. "Survive three minutes."

The skeletal soldiers raised their weapons as one.

And then the courtyard exploded into chaos...like children fighting for toys.