CHAPTER 1095: PREPARATIONS

Sylmira’s chamber glowed. The air vibrates with slow and deliberate power. Runes they had drawn along the walls shimmered with a restrained luminescence, keeping the energy contained within the room’s circular bounds and not lashing outside.

The scent of chalk dust, Magic ink, and warm crystal filled the air as the signs of long hours of Magical work.

At the center of the room, Arty knelt beside a wide crystalline slate with her sleeves rolled up and hair tied loosely behind her.

The surface in front of her was covered in dozens of half-finished diagrams created from sigils for resistance, absorption, and sealing. Each one of them was drawn with silver and gold ink that shimmered with her Magic energy.

Her fingers hovered over the lines as she channeled a steady stream of energy, linking each sigil together with careful precision just like what Sylmira had taught her.

"The stabilizer pattern’s holding at seventy percent," she murmured, her tone low and concentrated. "But I think the amplification nodes still reject the necrotic resonance."

Across the room, Archmage Sylmira stood by a floating circle of runic projections, doing her own thing. The soft light reflecting off her hair as she adjusted the alignment of each glowing ring.

Threads of Magic coiled around her fingertips, forming symbols in midair that slowly sank into the circle before her.

"Then we’ll need to alter the geometric flow, Arty," Sylmira said evenly. "If it rejects the resonance, it means the purity field is still too clean. Add a counter rune trace with just a little bit of corrupted energy to soften the reaction so that our runes would be able to adapt to it."

Arty frowned, her quill hovering over the slate. "That could destabilize the whole framework, right?"

"Not if you keep the infusion rate below two percent," Sylmira replied, eyes never leaving the diagrams in front of her. "It’ll create balance between both spectrums."

Arty exhaled slowly, nodding. "Two percent, alright."

She reached into a small case beside her and withdrew a crystal shard with an obsidian black shape with a pulse of dull crimson light. This was the little bit of necromantic energy sample that Sylmira had.

When she pressed its tip near one of the runes, a tremor ran through the slate.

The lines flared and twisting. Gold and violet light briefly clashing before settling into a deeper and darker hue.

The runes pulsed as if fighting, then held still.

"There," Arty said softly with a satisfied smile. "The resonance aligned."

Sylmira’s gaze flicked toward her, a faint approving curve touching her lips.

"Good. That diagram will form the foundation for the armor’s resistance layer. Once we finalize the matrix we can start binding it into the metal frames for the blacksmith to forge later."

"But we still have a lot to test first," Arty said, sitting back and rubbing her temple. The glow from the diagrams reflected in her eyes, painting them with streaks of blue and gold.

"We’ll need at least fifty functional copies ready before we even think about forging. Didn’t you want the strike teams equipped before the next wave?"

Sylmira moved gracefully toward the other end of the table, her hand brushing over several parchment sheets filled with runic variations.

"Yes. Fifty should be enough. The palace blacksmith can replicate the base structure once we confirm the harmonics."

Arty nodded with a sigh. "That’s good."

Sylmira gave a quiet hum of agreement. "That’s why these runes must be perfect first. So that the armor can protect the strike teams later."

The glow of the chamber brightened as another sequence of runes activated, casting shifting shadows across their faces.

The low hum of Magic energy flowed between them. It was not looked calm and steady.

Neither of them spoke of Erend or the others who had gone beyond worlds. Their silence said enough. They trusted them enough.

The only thing that mattered for them to do now was the work to create the diagrams that would become armor strong enough to withstand death’s touch.

Arty then moves again. She drew another line with deliberate care, the tip of her quill leaving a trail of faint light.

"Let’s finish the next batch," she said quietly. "We’re not done until every pattern holds."

Sylmira nodded at her apprentice that now already became like an experienced Mage.

And the room glowed on.

—

On the other side of the world, high within his private chamber in the upper spire of the Elven Palace, Saeldir stood before a vast window of crystal glass.

The moonlight washed over his robes and the faint reflection of the night sky shimmered across his calm face. But he was not gazing idly at the horizon. His mind was deep in thought.

The words Erend had spoken before leaving still echoed within him, sharp and heavy.

He knows that the dead enemies will rise again.

Saeldir exhaled slowly, his hand clasped behind his back. Outside the palace walls lay the quiet burial grounds of old Elf warriors and enemies who tried to attack them.

He narrowed his eyes. "If what Erend sensed was true we might face a huge trouble if we don’t prepare."

The possibility unsettled him. He still remembers what happened during the Great Calamity attack where the dead really rose again.

He turned away from the window..

He walked toward his great oak desk that was always covered in scrolls, crystalline shards, and tomes bound in aged leather.

With a firm motion of his hand, he summoned a black parchment map from a sealed compartment.

The parchment hovered in the air as he opened it. Across its surface small dots of violet light flickered. It was the recorded nodes of necromantic energy scattered across the continent.

He hadn’t looked at this chart in decades. There had been no reason to. Those sources had been dormant.

But now, as his eyes scanned the map, one of the faint lights pulsed.

A grim expression crossed his face. "So it begins to stir again."

He knew what that meant. The necrotic energy was awakening, resonating with something unseen.

Saeldir straightened, his decision forming.

"I need to assemble scout teams immediately to trace necromantic activity."

—