CHAPTER 73: NECRO ARCHMAGUS GRIMOIRE

Aria climbed back up into the ruined hall. The throne was silent now, its secrets revealed. She touched the reliquary at her belt, feeling the shard pulsing faintly in answer to the grimoire she carried. Both promised power—but also danger.

By the time she left the ruins, the sky over Lyria was already darkening. She walked until the city’s banners came into view. The guards opened the gates quickly when they saw her, word of her return spreading ahead.

Fenric waited in the council chamber, sitting at a table covered in maps. He stood as she entered.

She was exhausted, her armor broken, but she placed the reliquary and the grimoire on the table.

"Did you get it?" Fenric asked, serious but calm.

Aria nodded and pushed the relics forward. "Yes. These are the ones."

She gave a tired smile. "Thank you. Without your warning, I might not have made it out."

Fenric studied her. "So... you resisted the traps."

"Just barely," she admitted.

He placed a hand on the grimoire. "Now you see why I said this book is dangerous?"

Aria’s eyes lit with determination. "Yes. But I think I can use it."

Fenric nodded. "You can. Your class fits well with necromancy."

Aria whispered, half to herself, "Then I’ll master it before it controls me."

Fenric pulled his hand back and allowed himself a small smile.

Fenric looked at her, then told her gently, "Go and rest for now. You’ve done enough."

As she left, he sat back down, his eyes on the grimoire. He muttered to himself, "I wonder... can I read it too?"

He knew if he could, he might understand the old language it was written in.

Inside him, the voice of Dusverdis stirred. "Of course you can, brat. With my blessing, there’s nothing beyond you. All arts, all knowledge—you can learn it. That’s why I was unmatched in my time."

Fenric nodded quietly, reassured. He opened the grimoire and began reading.

Fenric spent hours with the grimoire, turning page after page. At first, the words looked like shifting symbols, but as Dusverdis’s blessing flowed through him, the text began to make sense. Fragments of chants, diagrams of soul binding, the lost paths of necromancy—all unfolded before his eyes.

When the door creaked open, Aria stepped in. She stopped when she saw him reading.

"You... you can read it?" she asked in disbelief.

Fenric looked up and gave a short nod. "Yes. And more than that—I’ve found I can also use necromancy."

Aria blinked, staring at him, half unsure if he was serious.

Before she could speak again, Laxin entered, stretching lazily. "So," he said with a grin, "was this the grimoire you were planning to give me?"

Fenric leaned back in his chair. "That was the plan at first. But now that both Aria and I can use it, we should learn it together."

Laxin raised an eyebrow. "Learn it together? When?"

Fenric answered calmly, "We can start and add it into our daily training sessions."

Aria bit her lip, then gave a small nod. She wasn’t against the idea.

Laxin sighed, shaking his head. "So that’s it then? You’re keeping it between the two of you?"

Fenric’s gaze stayed steady. "It’s not that I don’t trust you, but this book is bound to me. I can lend it for a short while, but it won’t obey anyone else for long."

Laxin clicked his tongue, half annoyed, half amused. "Tch. Figures. Guess I’ll just have to watch and see what kind of monsters you two turn into."

Fenric gave a thin smile. "Then watch closely. Necromancy isn’t just about death—it’s about control. If we don’t master it, it will master us."

Fenric’s eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned forward. "And besides, Aria can teach you what she learned with me. That way, you’ll still get to study it too."

Laxin blinked, then gave a crooked grin. "So I get the lessons secondhand, huh? Not the worst deal."

Aria crossed her arms. "Don’t complain. If the grimoire rejects you, you’ll be grateful you didn’t touch it directly."

Laxin chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Fair enough. Better to learn from you two than end up a pile of bones."

Fenric closed the grimoire with a heavy thud. "Then it’s settled. I’ll use it as the core reference, and Aria will pass down what she masters. You’ll still gain the knowledge—but safely."

Laxin gave a mock bow. "Fine, fine. I’ll be the diligent student."

Aria smirked. "We’ll see how long that lasts."

Fenric stood, his silver hair catching the torchlight. "We begin tomorrow. No delays."

The next morning, the three of them gathered in one of the sealed training halls beneath the castle. The air was cool and quiet, the kind of place built for practice that no one outside should disturb.

Fenric placed the grimoire on a stone pedestal. Its cover pulsed faintly, like it was alive.

"First lesson," he said calmly. "Necromancy isn’t dark or cursed—it’s just another branch of magic. As long as you’re not out robbing tombs for bodies, it’s fine. Think of it as learning to guide what’s already gone."

Aria nodded, stepping forward. "I’ll show you what I practiced last night." She raised her hand, letting her black fire curl around her fingers. Whispering the words she had picked up from the grimoire, she directed her energy at a pile of animal bones laid neatly on the floor.

The fire sank into the bones. They rattled, shifted, then slowly took the shape of a small, half-formed creature. Its eye sockets glowed faintly before it collapsed gently back into dust.

Aria exhaled, brushing hair from her face. "That’s as far as I can push it for now. It’s draining, but manageable."

Laxin whistled softly. "Strange, but impressive." He looked at her and smirked. "So... you’re my teacher now?"

Aria raised an eyebrow. "Only if you actually pay attention. This isn’t a game."

Fenric smiled faintly, resting his hand on the grimoire. "She’s right. You’ll start small—just learning the flow of the energy. Once you understand it, shaping it is simple."

Laxin raised both hands. "Alright, alright. I’ll behave. Teach me."

Fenric opened the grimoire, its pages shifting on their own. "Good. Then let’s begin."

Fenric flipped another page of the grimoire, the faint glow of runes dancing across the parchment. His voice carried a calm authority, not ominous, but matter-of-fact, as if he were explaining any other structured art.

"Step one," he said, pointing to the script, "is resonance. The body is just a vessel, an instrument. You don’t treat it as flesh—you treat it as a frame waiting for energy. First, you anchor your mana into the core—the heart or the place where life once flowed strongest."

He pressed a hand gently against the chest cavity of a training corpse laid out on the stone slab. A dim current of dark mana pulsed from his palm, threading into the ribcage. The body gave a faint shudder, like a puppet touched by strings.

Aria leaned closer. "That’s what I tried yesterday—pouring power into the bones. But without resonance, it just scattered."

Fenric nodded. "Exactly. Without anchoring, the flow leaks and collapses." He glanced at Laxin. "Your turn. Just focus. Place your palm, let your energy seep in—not forcing it, but guiding it."

Laxin crouched by the corpse, swallowing once before resting his hand on its sternum. He closed his eyes, letting dark mana stir in his veins. At first it was shaky, spilling in uneven waves, but then he steadied his breath. A faint black glow sank into the chest, and the body’s fingers twitched.

"Good," Fenric said, steady. "Step two is circulation. Think of it as weaving new veins—an artificial lifeline. You let your mana branch outward, mapping itself through the body, like blood vessels of shadow."

He demonstrated, his energy tracing along the arms and legs of the corpse in fine black streams. The body shifted, eyelids fluttering though no true life was there.

Aria added, "Once circulation holds, the last step is flow. That’s where you let the mana cycle back to the core, forming a loop. That loop is the soul substitute. Not a real soul, but enough to animate."

Laxin frowned, concentration deepening. He followed their instructions, mana threading out, linking, looping back. The corpse’s chest rose slightly, then fell again, the imitation of breath. Its hands curled faintly, and for a heartbeat, it looked almost alive.

He opened his eyes with a grin. "Ha! Did it—well, kind of."

Fenric gave a small smile. "That’s the foundation. Anchor, circulate, flow. Once you master the cycle, you’ll be able to create a stable construct. From there, shaping is just refinement."

Aria folded her arms. "And the more control you have, the less energy you waste. Remember, a messy weave drains you twice as fast."

The corpse stilled again, the mana fading as Laxin lost focus. He let out a long breath. "Alright... not creepy at all. Just a craft. A strange, exhausting craft."

Fenric closed the grimoire with a firm sound. "And like any craft—it takes discipline. We’ll continue tomorrow."