The clash was instant. Fenric’s five skeletons surged forward like a tide of sharpened bones, their movements crisp, dangerous, drilled with perfect precision.
Aria braced herself, her two skeletons intercepting the first strike. The sound of bone against rusted steel rang out sharply. She clenched her teeth, forcing her rhythm into them. Left guard, right strike, hold—steady! Her constructs moved, a little clumsy but functional, crossing their arms to block a downward slash. Sparks scattered as the sword scraped bone.
Meanwhile, Laxin’s skeletons... did not march so elegantly. One lurched forward with arms raised like it was preparing to hug Fenric’s soldiers. The other half-tripped, half-stumbled, dragging behind like a drunk.
"Focus!" Fenric barked. "The fight is not waiting for you."
"I am focusing!" Laxin yelled back, sweat dripping down his forehead. His mana surged clumsily, and one of his skeletons actually managed a swing—though it was more of a wild slap that accidentally knocked a sword out of one enemy’s hand.
"Ha!" Laxin grinned triumphantly. "See that? Disarmament! Totally planned!"
But then his second skeleton face-planted directly into the dirt. The disarmed enemy simply stepped over it and drove a sword straight through the ribs of Laxin’s first one. Bones shattered, scattering across the courtyard.
"No, no, no—don’t die on me already!" Laxin cried, frantically trying to pull the fallen skeleton back together with raw mana. All he got was a twitching pile of bones that looked more like a spider than a soldier.
Aria, panting, was holding ground better. Her two skeletons moved almost in rhythm now, covering each other, taking small precise steps. They weren’t overpowering Fenric’s constructs, but they weren’t being cut down either. Still, every time her focus wavered, her soldiers faltered—one missing a block, another stumbling half a pace late. She growled in frustration, pouring more mana in.
Fenric’s expression didn’t shift. He stood calm and still, arms folded, watching like a teacher at a test he already knew the answers to. His silver eyes flicked between them.
"Aria—your steps are too rigid. Adapt, don’t force.""Laxin—stop flooding mana. Direct it, shape it. They are not buckets for you to drown."
Aria adjusted, letting her mind flow instead of forcing. Her skeletons bent lower, sidestepped a slash, and retaliated with a double strike that knocked one of Fenric’s minions onto its back. She gasped, then smiled—her first true victory.
Laxin, on the other hand, gritted his teeth and tried to listen. He cut back his mana, focusing only on the spine and joints. His fallen skeleton twitched... then reassembled slowly, shakily rising. His grin returned, manic with relief. "YES! Rise, my bony boy! Rise!"
The skeleton got up... and immediately fell forward again, landing flat on his chest.
Aria actually barked out a laugh mid-command. "Oh gods—you’re hopeless."
"Hey, it stood! That’s half the battle!" Laxin shot back, though his skeleton now lay groaning in bone clacks.
Fenric let out a single low chuckle, though his tone stayed razor-sharp. "Half the battle, perhaps. But in war, half is death."
Minutes dragged on. Aria managed to keep her skeletons alive, even knocking another of Fenric’s back with clever timing. Laxin, after numerous failures, finally got both of his to stand upright again and swing—wildly, ungracefully, but at least in the right direction. He even managed to trip one of Fenric’s soldiers by accident when his skeleton toppled forward like a falling log.
By the time Fenric raised his hand to end the drill, both students were drenched in sweat, mana-drained, and shaking. Their skeletons collapsed into piles around them like discarded puppets.
"Three minutes," Fenric said, his voice calm, though a rare note of approval softened it. "Barely. But you endured."
Aria fell onto the ground, clutching her knees, breathing hard. Yet there was a faint smile on her lips. "They moved together... I actually made them move together."
Laxin lay flat on his back, staring at the sky, bones littered across his chest. "I survived... and so did my nose. I’ll take it as a win."
Fenric stepped forward, his silver gaze cutting through both of them. "You are learning. But remember this: raising the dead is easy. Commanding them—commanding them to kill for you, to protect you, to obey without falter—that is the mark of a true necromancer. Tomorrow... we begin strategy. Not just surviving—but winning."
Aria’s eyes lit with determination. Laxin groaned, dragging a femur off his stomach.
"Strategy?" he muttered weakly. "I can barely strategize my breakfast..."
Aria smirked at him. "Then you’d better start. Or next time, Fenric won’t stop the fight after three minutes."
Fenric didn’t deny it. He only closed his eyes for a brief moment, the faintest trace of satisfaction on his face.
The courtyard was silent again—except for Laxin’s skeleton, still twitching on the ground like it hadn’t gotten the memo that training was over.
The following day dawned with an almost ominous chill in the training chamber. The braziers burned lower than usual, shadows crawling across the walls like watchful specters. Piles of bones were now stacked into neat formations resembling miniature battalions—Fenric’s doing, of course.
He stood at the center, silver hair glinting faintly in the dim light, gaze sharp as he addressed his two pupils.
"Raising and balancing skeletons is foundation. But necromancy is not performance art. It is warfare. If your constructs cannot obey under pressure, they are liabilities. Today we test combat."
Aria squared her shoulders, determination burning in her eyes. Laxin, meanwhile, swallowed audibly, his bruised nose still sporting a faint swelling.
Fenric snapped his fingers. Instantly, two skeletons clattered to life before him, each armed with rusted training blades. They moved with unnerving precision—flowing as though tied by one soul, not two.
"These will serve as your opponents. You are to control your skeletons and engage. Should you lose command..." Fenric let the silence hang. The air seemed to shiver. "Then you will defend yourselves with your own flesh."
Laxin paled. "Wait—you mean they’ll actually try to kill us?"