CHAPTER 79: NECRO ARCHMAGUS GRIMOIRE VII

Aria’s lips twitched despite herself. "Teamwork? They look like they’re slow-dancing at a tavern."

The skeletons, still locked together, staggered a few awkward steps and collapsed in a heap. A single femur rolled away with a mournful clatter.

"Fine," Laxin muttered, scrambling to pile them back up. "They’re still... choreographing. Just needs polish."

"One of them tried to grab my skeleton’s waist," Aria said flatly.

He gasped, scandalized. "Impossible! I didn’t program romance into their mana flow."

"Maybe you didn’t. But apparently they did."

Before Laxin could retort, one of his reassembled skeletons stood, snapped rigidly upright—then immediately faceplanted, skull-first, into the dirt.

Thunk.

He froze, staring down at it with twitching eyes. "...Okay, now they’re just mocking me."

Aria lost it. A laugh burst out, sharp and bright, breaking through her controlled exterior. She tried to smother it behind her hand, but another chuckle slipped free.

Her skeletons wavered dangerously. She snapped back into focus, tightening her mana flow, and they returned to their stance. Still, her shoulders shook.

"Laugh all you want," Laxin grumbled, hauling his skeleton upright again. "But when these guys finally get it right, they’ll be unstoppable."

The skeleton straightened dutifully. For five whole seconds. Then, slowly, its arm creaked up—and patted Laxin gently on the head, like a parent comforting a child.

"...See?" he said, voice breaking. "They’re encouraging me now."

Aria doubled over, clutching her stomach, her laughter ringing across the courtyard. Her skeletons nearly lost balance again.

Laxin jabbed a finger at her between his own wheezing chuckles. "Don’t you dare lose control because of me

. If Fenric sees us laughing, he’ll turn both of us into skeletons!"

The thought sobered her instantly. Her laughter dwindled to quiet snickers, though her eyes sparkled. "You’re right. We’ll never survive if we can’t take this seriously."

Silence lingered, broken only by the faint creak of bones. The night grew colder, the weight of tomorrow pressing on them both.

And yet, amid the failures, the fumbling, and the comedy of errors, something subtle began to change.

Their skeletons stood straighter. Their commands grew sharper. Aria’s focus deepened, her mana weaving smoother patterns. Laxin, through gritted teeth and muttered curses, began reinforcing joints, adjusting postures, steadying what once wobbled.

It wasn’t flawless—but it was better.

For the first time, their skeletons stood side by side without collapsing. A ragged, crooked line of bone soldiers, but soldiers nonetheless.

Aria exhaled, almost in disbelief. "...We did it."

Laxin dropped onto the ground, arms spread wide, panting. "We? No. I dragged my circus troupe into order. You just—" He paused, then cracked a grin. "Fine. We did it. But if they embarrass me tomorrow, I’m blaming your skeletons for being bad influences."

The chamber was colder than ever that morning, the torches dimmer, as though the room itself knew what was coming.

Fenric stood in the center, cloak flowing like shadow, grimoire already open in his hand. His silver eyes fixed on them, unreadable.

Aria and Laxin entered together, side by side. Both were pale with nerves, though Aria carried herself straighter, her jaw set with quiet resolve. Laxin, by contrast, muttered a prayer under his breath to any god willing to listen.

"Summon," Fenric commanded.

Bones rattled. Aria’s skeletons rose with perfect synchronicity, crisp and sharp. Laxin’s emerged a beat later, but—for once—they didn’t wobble, collapse, or slap each other. They stood. Crooked, perhaps, but standing.

Fenric’s gaze flicked over them once, then shut the grimoire with a decisive snap.

"You face me. Together. If you fail to command, I will crush your soldiers in seconds." He lifted his hand, and from the piles of bones around him, a single skeleton rose—taller, broader, clad in ghostly fragments of spectral armor. Its eyes glowed faint silver, mirroring his own.

Aria’s breath caught. Laxin whispered, "Of course his skeleton looks like it eats ours for breakfast."

"Begin," Fenric said.

The duel started instantly.

Aria barked, "Advance, shield up!" Her skeletons surged forward in formation, blades raised.

Laxin followed, shouting, "Flank him, left side!" His skeletons moved—not gracefully, but they moved, one even managing to hold its shield in the right direction.

Fenric’s skeleton strode forward like a knight. It blocked Aria’s thrust with flawless precision, then slammed its shield into one of her soldiers so hard it flew back and shattered against the wall.

Aria gritted her teeth, tightening her control, forcing the bones to knit back together.

"Faster!" she snapped, pouring mana to rebuild.

Meanwhile, Laxin’s skeletons lunged clumsily at the enemy’s flank. One tripped but the other managed a slash that scraped against the armored figure’s side. Sparks flew—and faded without a mark.

Laxin paled. "Oh, we’re so dead."

Fenric’s voice cut through the clash. "Your coordination is sloppy. Your timing is weak."

The armored skeleton swung, shield-bashing one of Laxin’s minions straight into Aria’s. Both crumbled into a bone heap.

Aria shouted in frustration, "Laxin, keep yours upright!"

"I’m trying!" he yelled, sweat pouring as he forced the bones to reassemble. "They’ve got stage fright, alright?!"

But then—something clicked.

Aria’s voice rose sharp, commanding: "Left strike, shield high!"

Laxin snapped, almost in sync: "Circle right, distract him!"

For the first time, their skeletons moved as one. Aria’s blocked the enemy’s shield, locking it in place, while Laxin’s darted clumsily behind and swung down at the knee. The armored skeleton staggered—just for a breath, but it staggered.

Fenric’s silver eyes gleamed. "Better."

Then his grimoire flared, and his soldier exploded with sudden speed, scattering theirs in all directions like toys. Bones skittered across the floor.

Aria fell to one knee, clutching her chest, breath ragged. Laxin collapsed onto his backside, groaning, "I think my soul just herniated..."

Fenric stepped forward, his voice cold but edged with something sharper—approval.

"You lasted longer than I expected."

Aria blinked up, stunned. "...Was that... praise?"

Laxin wheezed. "Mark this day... he almost said something nice."

Fenric ignored the comment. He snapped his grimoire shut, the spectral skeleton dissolving into mist. "But you are not ready. Not yet. Tomorrow, you will face me again. And next time, I will not hold back even this much."

The two of them stared in silence as he strode past, his cloak brushing like a blade of shadow.

When the door shut, Laxin flopped flat on the ground. "...I’m never summoning another skeleton again."

Aria, still panting, smirked faintly. "Yes you will. And tomorrow, they’d better not start slow-dancing."

One of his skeleton skulls, lying nearby, rolled slightly as if nodding.

Laxin groaned. "...Traitors. All of them."

That night, the training chamber was empty, but neither Aria nor Laxin found rest.

Aria sat cross-legged in the courtyard, the moonlight spilling over her like a silver veil. Her skeletons stood behind her like statues while she worked, weaving threads of mana into their joints and testing how quickly they responded. She whispered each command carefully, repeating the motions again and again.

Across the courtyard, Laxin was... less calm. He had his skeletons circling a broken training dummy, barking orders between heavy breaths.

"Alright, you block, you swing—no, not each other! The dummy! The straw head!"

The skeletons obeyed badly. One swung its shield and missed completely, smacking the dummy below the belt. The other stabbed at the head, but its sword bounced off and stuck into its partner’s spine. Both toppled over in a messy heap.

Laxin groaned and dragged his hands down his face. "At this point, I should just call you Disaster One and Disaster Two."

The pile of bones rattled faintly, almost insulted.

Aria tried to stifle a laugh but couldn’t. "You’ll never get anywhere if you keep yelling like that. Skeletons copy intent. If your head’s a mess, so will they."

He shot her a look, sweat running down his forehead. "Oh, thank you, Professor Perfect. Sorry I wasn’t born with a skeleton manual tucked under my arm."

"Discipline, Laxin," she said, walking over. "Fenric was right. They’re only as strong as your control. Treat them like brats, and—"

"They’ll act like brats," he muttered, shoulders sagging. "...So I’m just a bad parent."

One skeleton, missing an arm, crawled across the ground and clutched at his ankle like a needy child.

Aria burst out laughing. "See? Even they agree."

Laxin pointed at it. "That’s not a soldier, that’s an emotional blackmailer." He sighed and dropped beside her, the skeleton still holding on.

For a while, they sat in quiet. Only the faint clatter of bones and the night wind filled the air.

Aria spoke first. "We actually made him stumble today. Even if it was just for a second... we did it together."

Laxin tilted his head back to look at the stars. His smile was tired, but honest. "Yeah. Which means tomorrow we’ll last... what, two seconds before he flattens us?"

Aria looked down at her skeletons. "...Then let’s make it three."

This time, Laxin didn’t argue. He just sat there with the skull in his lap, as if daring it to act up.

And under the pale glow of the moon, two half-trained necromancers and their half-broken skeletons kept training for what tomorrow would bring.