CHAPTER 78: NECRO ARCHMAGUS GRIMOIRE VI

The next morning, the chamber felt colder. The piles of bones were stacked neatly again, waiting like silent judges.

Fenric stood before them, hands behind his back. "Discipline drills. No combat. No flair. You will raise your skeletons and hold their stance—unmoving—for thirty minutes. Break formation even once, and we start over."

Aria nodded, calm as ever. Laxin groaned. "Thirty minutes? Standing still? That’s torture!"

"Good," Fenric said flatly. "Perhaps you’ll finally learn the meaning of control."

They began.

Aria’s skeletons rose smoothly, planted their feet, and locked into soldier’s stance. Her mana flow was steady, her breathing even. She stood tall, focused.

Laxin... not so much. His skeletons wobbled the instant they stood. One leaned forward like it was about to vomit, the other leaned back as if admiring the ceiling.

"Straighten up, you idiots," Laxin hissed. He pushed mana harder. Both skeletons jerked into place—but the sudden stiffness caused one to snap a femur and collapse sideways into the other.

CRASH. Both went down in a pile.

Fenric didn’t even blink. "Reset."

Groaning, Laxin tried again. This time the skeletons held for... twenty seconds. Then one sneezed. Or rather, it shook violently for no reason and sent its skull flying off its spine. The head rolled across the floor, stopping at Laxin’s boots.

He stared down at it. "...Are you kidding me?"

Aria snorted, her focus slipping for half a second. One of her skeletons swayed dangerously before she caught it.

Fenric’s silver gaze shifted toward her. "Lose your rhythm, and you’ll share his fate."

"Noted," she said quickly, regaining control.

The drills dragged on. Every time Laxin thought he had his skeletons stable, something ridiculous happened:

One’s jaw dropped off mid-stance and clattered like teeth chattering on the ground.

Another keeled over backward so stiffly it looked like a falling tree.

Once, both stood perfectly still... until one slowly raised its arm and slapped the other in the face for no reason.

Aria tried to ignore him, but every mishap tested her composure. At one point she was biting her lip so hard she nearly drew blood to keep from laughing.

By the third hour, Laxin was sprawled on the floor, drenched in sweat, glaring at his skeletons like they’d betrayed him. "This isn’t training. This is public humiliation."

Fenric finally broke the silence with a calm, cutting tone. "If you cannot control bones, how do you expect to command an army? Again."

Laxin groaned into the floor. Aria’s skeletons remained steady, statuesque in their stance.

And so the day ended with one student holding flawless formation... and the other still trying to convince his skeletons not to faceplant every five minutes.

Fenric closed the grimoire with that same sharp snap. "Tomorrow, we return to combat drills. Pray your discipline improves... or you will bleed for your failures."

Aria exhaled slowly, wiping sweat from her brow. Her skeletons still stood.

Laxin raised a hand weakly from the floor. "...I think I already bled enough for both of us."

The chamber was quieter the next morning, the air heavy with the kind of tension that comes before a storm.

Fenric strode in, his cloak trailing across the floor, grimoire tucked under his arm. He didn’t waste time. "Combat drills. Yesterday you learned the price of weak control. Today you learn the cost of poor timing. Summon."

Aria and Laxin obeyed. Aria’s skeletons rose with their usual crisp precision, twin soldiers awaiting command. Laxin’s emerged with less grace—one climbing upright like it had arthritis, the other shaking off its own ribcage before standing crookedly.

"Pairs," Fenric ordered. "Skeletons against skeletons. You two are commanders. Every command must be clear, concise, and exact. Stumble, and your soldier will stumble."

The first clash began.

Aria’s skeleton thrust forward like a disciplined soldier, shield raised, sword stabbing. Laxin’s skeleton blocked—sort of. It raised its shield halfway, then decided to adjust its posture mid-swing. The blade went straight into its skull.

Clunk.

The skeleton collapsed face-first.

Laxin shouted, "Wait, wait! I didn’t tell you to commit seppuku!"

Fenric’s expression didn’t twitch, but his silver eyes gleamed. "Reset."

Laxin revived the fallen skeleton, muttering under his breath. "I swear they’re doing this on purpose."

The second round lasted longer. Aria gave a sharp command, and her skeleton swung in a tight arc. Laxin, trying to counter, screamed: "Block left!"

His skeleton obediently swung its shield—not left, but in a full circle, accidentally bashing its ally

instead of blocking. Both of his skeletons crumbled into a tangled heap.

Aria’s skeletons stood tall, victorious without lifting a finger.

Aria pressed a hand to her mouth, her shoulders trembling. "Don’t laugh... don’t laugh..."

Fenric, with absolute calm: "That was not an opponent defeating you, Laxin. That was you defeating yourself."

"Tell that to my skeletons!" Laxin snapped, gesturing at the pile of bones. "They’re rebelling!"

By the fifth reset, the chamber echoed with absurd moments:

One skeleton attempted to parry but ended up twirling its sword like it was showing off in a circus act before dropping it on its own foot.

Another lunged too hard, missed completely, and crashed head-first into a wall, sticking there like a mounted decoration.

In one spectacular mishap, both of Laxin’s skeletons swung at Aria’s... only to smack each other so hard their skulls popped off simultaneously and rolled to Fenric’s feet.

He looked down at them in silence, then flicked one with his boot so it rolled neatly back toward Laxin. "Retrieve your men."

Laxin was on his knees, clutching his head. "Men? They’re not men, they’re saboteurs!"

Aria couldn’t hold back anymore—her laughter rang across the chamber. "S-saboteurs!"

Her skeletons faltered at the sound, one almost losing balance before she quickly reasserted her control.

Fenric’s voice cut sharp as a blade. "Distraction is a weakness. Even laughter." His gaze landed squarely on Aria. "If you cannot stay focused under strain, you are no better than him."

Her laughter died instantly, a nervous look flashing across her face. "...Understood."

"Good," Fenric said, shutting his grimoire with a heavy snap. "Today’s lesson ends here. But tomorrow—" His gaze hardened. "—tomorrow, you fight me."

Laxin’s jaw dropped. "...Excuse me, what?"

Fenric turned, his silver hair catching the torchlight as he walked away. "If you cannot command your skeletons against me, then you will never command them against an enemy. Rest well, both of you. You will need it."

The door closed behind him, leaving the two of them staring at each other.

Aria whispered, half-excited, half-terrified: "We’re dead."

Laxin groaned and flopped on his back. "Finally. At least then my skeletons will stop betraying me."

Silence lingered for a beat, broken only by the clatter of Laxin’s skeletons trying—and failing—to reassemble themselves properly. One had attached its arm where its leg should be, the other was stuck holding its skull under its armpit like a football.

Aria crouched, hugging her knees, her laughter fully spent now, replaced with a tight knot of anxiety. "...You know he’s serious, right? Fenric doesn’t bluff."

Laxin peeked at her from the floor, eyes wide. "You don’t say? I thought maybe tomorrow he was just planning to read us bedtime stories from the Grimoire of Doom."

Aria frowned, whispering sharply, "Mock him all you want, but you saw what he did to the mercenaries. If he fights us, even holding back..." She didn’t finish. Her eyes drifted toward her skeletons, standing like motionless sentries, perfectly obedient. "I’ll have to make them sharper. Faster. I won’t... embarrass myself."

Laxin groaned again, throwing an arm over his face. "Great. You’ll look like a shining prodigy, and I’ll be the court jester dying in the background while my skeletons juggle their own heads."

"Maybe—" Aria hesitated, biting her lip. "Maybe we could... coordinate? If we practice together, your skeletons might follow along better."

He squinted at her. "...You’re suggesting we train as a team? Against him?"

Her small smile was sheepish, but determined. "I’d rather die standing beside you than die watching you trip over your own minions."

Laxin sat up, staring at her with mock horror. "...That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Truly, I feel blessed." He slapped his knee, then pointed dramatically at one of his skeletons. "Alright, Saboteur One, Saboteur Two—we’re going to war tomorrow. No more comedy routines, you hear me?"

Both skeletons tilted their heads in perfect unison, as if to say: we make no promises.

Aria shook her head, laughing under her breath. Then, softer: "We have one night."

Laxin flopped back down with a dramatic sigh. "One night to prepare for execution. Lovely."

But beneath the sarcasm, his fingers were already moving, weaving faint patterns of necrotic light to reinforce his skeletons’ joints. Aria caught it and smiled.

For once, they were both dead serious.

The ruined courtyard echoed with rattles and clanks as midnight stretched on. The moonlight spilled across scattered bones, forming a battlefield that looked more like a comedy stage than a graveyard of champions.

"Left! No, your left!" Laxin barked, sweat dripping down his temple as one of his skeletons shuffled into the wrong position again.

It turned, obediently enough—straight into the path of Aria’s skeleton, who swung a rusted sword in perfect precision.

Clonk.

The blade lodged into the first skeleton’s ribcage, locking them together like two drunks trying to dance.

Aria pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering, "This is hopeless..."

"No! No, it’s progress," Laxin argued, rushing forward as his skeletons tripped over each other. He yanked at one skull, only to have the spine stretch like a grotesque puppet string before snapping back into place. "See? They’re bonding. That’s teamwork!"