Chapter 84: Necro Archmagus Grimoire XII
The chamber doors sealed shut behind Fenric, his shadow vanishing into the cold stone like it had never been there.
For a long while, there was only the sound of Aria and Laxin’s ragged breathing, echoing in the wreckage of shattered bones.
Aria pressed her forehead against the floor, too exhausted to lift her head. "...He’s insane."
Laxin, sprawled flat on his back, let out a broken laugh. "You’re just figuring that out now? The man looked me in the eye, conjured a boss monster, and said ’adapt.’ That’s not training—that’s attempted murder."
She groaned, rolling onto her side to glare at him. "And yet... we’re alive."
He tilted his head toward her, lips quirking despite the burns still glowing faintly across his arms. "Barely. I’m ninety percent sure my spleen’s on strike."
Aria chuckled weakly, then winced, holding her ribs. "...Don’t make me laugh. It hurts."
Laxin raised one finger like he was delivering some grand speech. "Then mission accomplished. I made you hurt more than Fenric did. Which means, technically, I win."
She shoved a splintered femur at his shoulder without strength. "...Idiot."
But the weight in her chest shifted. For all the pain, for all the exhaustion—something else lingered beneath it. Not defeat. Not despair. Something fiercer.
"...We matched them," she whispered.
"Hm?" Laxin hummed, eyes half-shut.
"The skeletal mages," Aria said, voice soft but steady. "For a moment, we matched them. Our spells collided, held, and pushed back. That means..." She tightened her fists, trembling though they were. "...That means we can."
Laxin let the silence sit for a while before sighing. "You sound terrifyingly motivated for someone who looks like death warmed over."
Her lips curved in a faint grin. "Then maybe Fenric’s madness is working."
He closed his eyes, chuckling faintly. "Gods help us if it is."
The torches flickered out one by one, plunging the chamber into darkness.
The next morning arrived like a hammer to the skull.
Aria dragged herself into the chamber, still sore from yesterday. Her joints felt like rusty hinges, and every muscle screamed with protest. Laxin shuffled in behind her, arms wrapped in crude bandages, his hair sticking up as if he had been electrocuted in his sleep—which, honestly, was pretty accurate given yesterday’s finale.
"Morning," he croaked, yawning. "If today’s trial doesn’t kill me, the bedbugs in my mattress will."
Aria gave him a look. "Bedbugs aren’t even real in the castle."
"They’re real in my nightmares," he muttered.
The chamber lit itself once more, torches sparking alive. Fenric was already there, standing perfectly still, his silver gaze waiting like a blade drawn from its sheath. The grimoire floated beside him, pages already turning, glowing faintly.
No words of greeting. No sympathy. Only a gesture of his hand.
The floor rumbled.
This time, the stone split wider than ever before. Shadows surged up like black smoke. When they cleared, the figures that emerged made Aria’s blood run cold.
Not skeletons. Not clumsy warriors.
But armored undead knights. Six of them. Each carrying swords as tall as a man, shields carved with faded crests of forgotten kingdoms. Their eyes glowed red like coals in a forge. Behind them, two skeletal mages floated, runes burning on their skulls like crowns of fire.
Aria’s lips trembled. "...He’s mixing them now."
Laxin swallowed hard, his face pale. "Oh, perfect. It’s like yesterday’s nightmares went on a double date."
The knights slammed their swords into the ground in unison, the sound shaking the chamber. The mages lifted their staffs, dark power crackling between their bones.
Aria bit her lip, forcing herself to stand straighter. "We’ve done worse."
Laxin gave her a flat stare. "No. We’ve survived worse. Big difference."
The knights moved first—marching forward, shields raised. The mages behind them began to chant, weaving spells that made the air heavy with static.
Aria summoned a pair of skeletal warriors from the fragments around her, but they looked pitiful compared to the armored juggernauts advancing. Her jaw clenched. "They’ll have to do."
The skeletal warriors charged... and were instantly crushed, their spines split by the knights’ shields.
Laxin groaned. "...Yup. Totally worth the mana cost."
The mages finished their chant. Bolts of shadow lightning shot forward, striking the ground near Aria and Laxin. The blast tossed them both back, the air burning with the smell of ozone.
Aria coughed, blood on her lips. "We can’t out-muscle them. We need a plan."
"Plan?" Laxin wheezed, rolling behind a shattered pillar. "You mean besides ’scream, panic, and hope Fenric decides to pity us’?"
Aria glared at him, even as her chest heaved. "You’re supposed to be the smart one!"
"I am! That’s why I know when to run!" he shot back.
Another shadow bolt smashed nearby, scattering rubble.
Aria’s mind raced. They couldn’t take the knights head-on. And the mages were protected behind them. Unless—
Her eyes narrowed. "We break the formation."
Laxin peeked out from behind cover. "Break the—? They’re walking fortresses, Aria!"
She clenched her teeth. "Then we make them trip."
He blinked. Then his mouth split into a grin. "...Okay. I like where this is going."
Together, they pressed their hands to the ground. Bones scattered across the floor rattled, then shot forward like roots, weaving into tangled snares.
The knights stepped onto the bone-traps—at first unbothered, their heavy boots smashing through. But as they pushed forward, the snares coiled higher, wrapping around knees and ankles.
One knight stumbled. Another lost its balance. The formation faltered.
Aria shouted, "Now!"
Laxin surged to his feet, throwing his remaining mana into a desperate spell. He unleashed a volley of Bone Lances—dozens of them—straight through the opening.
Two struck true, piercing one of the skeletal mages through its chest. Its runes flickered and went dark.
The other mage retaliated instantly, unleashing a blast of fire that nearly roasted Laxin alive. He dove back behind cover, his cloak smoking. "Ow—ow—ow! I smell like barbecue!"
Aria forced more bones into her snares, her vision blurring from strain. The knights roared—if the rattling of their skulls could be called that—tearing at the bindings with raw strength. They were breaking free.
Aria’s mana ran dry. She staggered, panting.
Laxin groaned, crawling beside her. "Well... at least we got one. That’s progress, right?"
The remaining mage raised its staff, power gathering. The knights tore free, stomping forward again.
Aria’s knees buckled. Laxin’s arms smoked.
And Fenric... merely watched.
His silver eyes gleamed. His voice was cold as ever.
"Show me. Have you truly learned... or was yesterday only luck?"
The undead formation advanced—unstoppable.
And this time... neither of them had mana left.
The knights advanced like a wall of iron, shields raised, crimson eyes blazing. Behind them, the last skeletal mage’s staff burned brighter, crackling with a spell that promised to end this fight in a single stroke.
Aria’s chest heaved. Her mana was gone, her bones trembled, and every nerve in her body screamed for her to stop. Laxin looked no better—his arms blackened with backlash, his breathing shallow, his face pale as chalk.
The mage’s chant grew louder. The knights stomped closer.
This was it.
Aria closed her eyes. She could almost hear Fenric’s cold voice already. "Pathetic. You failed."
Then—crack!
One of the knights’ armored feet stepped squarely onto a loose skull lying in the rubble. The bone rolled.
The knight slipped.
And because the others were so tightly packed, its stumble knocked into the knight beside it. That one tripped too. Then another.
Like a chain of dominoes, the unstoppable undead phalanx toppled sideways in a clattering crash of armor and bones.
For one glorious second, silence reigned.
Then Laxin wheezed out a laugh so broken it sounded like choking. "We... we killed them with a banana peel. A medieval banana peel."
Aria’s jaw dropped, her exhausted brain struggling to process what just happened. "Did we just—"
"Yes," Laxin gasped, clutching his ribs, tears in his eyes from laughter and pain alike. "The knights of doom... defeated by gravity!"
The skeletal mage behind them let out a hollow screech, furious its protectors had collapsed like drunks in an alley. Its staff flared with fire as it prepared to finish them off itself.
Aria’s instincts screamed. No mana, no spells left... but her hand landed on one of the knights’ fallen shields.
She grabbed it, teeth gritted, and hurled it with the last of her strength.
The heavy iron disc spun through the air like a guillotine—CLANG!—smashing directly into the mage’s skull. The rune flared once, then shattered.
The skeletal mage collapsed into a heap of bones.
Silence again.
Laxin slowly turned to her, eyes wide. "...Did you just shield-throw that thing like some kind of undead Captain Hero?"
Aria collapsed on her back, laughing breathlessly. "Don’t... don’t even talk to me right now..."
The battlefield was a ruin of broken bones and scattered armor. Neither of them could move anymore, but somehow—somehow—they had won.
The chamber grew still. The only sound was their ragged breathing.
Then—clap. Clap. Clap.
Fenric stepped forward, grimoire under his arm, his silver gaze unreadable.
"You improvised. You adapted. You survived." His voice echoed with a dangerous calm. Then, with the faintest flicker of a smirk—"...Accidentally, but it counts."
Laxin groaned, raising a hand weakly. "I’ll take it. Accidentally is my middle name."
Aria closed her eyes, still smiling despite the blood and exhaustion. "We... did it."
Fenric looked down at them for a long moment, then turned, shadows curling at his feet.
"Rest. Tomorrow," he said softly, "you face something that does not slip on bones."
And with that, the torches dimmed, leaving only the wreckage of their victory behind.