Chapter 89: Grimoire
Laxin scrambled to reassemble Clatter, muttering frantic motivational speeches at the pile of bones.
"Okay, team synergy, collaborative excellence, let’s manifest some quarterly wins here—"
Clatter’s skull clicked back onto its spine with a noise like an unimpressed stapler. Its eye flames guttered back to life, dim but stubborn. It sat up, shook off a rib like it was shedding self-doubt, and grabbed its staff.
"Good," Fenric said flatly, like an accountant noting a fire is now only smoldering instead of actively exploding.
Aria stood at attention, calm as glass, while Veil silently polished its wand tip on thin air—somehow managing to look haughty despite not having lips.
Fenric paced a slow circle around them, silver eyes like scalpels.
"This time," he said, "you will not duel. You will coordinate."
Laxin blinked. "Like... together?"
"Yes," Fenric replied, in the tone of someone confirming water is wet.
"Synergy. Precision. Strategic crossfire. If either of you detonates the ceiling again, I will summon something specifically designed to haunt you personally."
"...That sounds targeted," Laxin whispered.
"It would be," Fenric confirmed. "Positions."
They obeyed.
Veil glided left, robes whispering like secret paperwork.
Clatter shuffled right, wobbling like a very nervous coat rack.
Fenric flicked a finger.
Three new targets shimmered into being downrange—spectral mockups of armored skeleton knights, shields raised.
"Objective," Fenric said. "Eliminate them as a team."
"Veil," Aria called softly, "Disruption pattern."
"Clatter... uh... backup pattern," Laxin said, then added, "Please."
Veil blurred into motion, runes spiraling like a storm. A coil of violet fire lanced out, striking the left knight in the knee joint. The leg dissolved into ash and the knight collapsed sideways like insulted furniture.
Clatter actually... waited. Then jabbed its staff at the exposed knight’s skull.
A green bolt—small, shaky, but very present—zipped out and struck true.
The skull popped off like a cork.
Laxin gasped. "Direct hit! On purpose! On the first try!"
"Miracles are a finite resource," Fenric said without blinking. "Do not squander them."
The last knight raised its sword and charged.
Veil spun away, trailing violet fire like comet tails. Clatter screamed like a breaking violin string and panic-fired a scatterburst. Half the bolts hit the floor. One hit the knight.
And then Veil struck like a guillotine of moonlight—its wand cleaving down, a violet arc slicing the knight clean through. The armor dissolved like smoke.
Silence.
Aria exhaled. A grin flickered. "Executed."
Clatter lowered its staff... and promptly tripped over its own robe. It faceplanted. Again.
"Clatter," Laxin said, kneeling beside it. "I am so proud of you."
Fenric’s gaze swept over them like a cold audit.
"...Acceptable."
Aria blinked. Laxin’s jaw dropped. "He said it—he said acceptable—"
"Do not celebrate yet," Fenric interrupted, slicing their hope in half with perfect professionalism.
"You have proven you can function in a controlled environment."
His silver eyes sharpened.
"Now you will perform under stress."
The torches guttered out.
The training hall plunged into blackness, except for the faint, eerie glow of their circles.
A whisper rose. Faint. Distant. Wrong.
Shapes stirred in the far shadows—glints of eyes, the scrape of claws on stone.
Fenric’s voice floated from the darkness, quiet as a falling blade.
"Survive."
Something howled.
The darkness rippled.
Aria’s heartbeat hammered in her ears like a war drum wrapped in panic. Veil floated closer to her side, silver eye-flames sharp and ready, robes rustling like whispers of old curses.
Laxin fumbled to yank Clatter upright by its spine. "Okay, okay, we’ve got this, this is just... just surprise KPI evaluation with teeth—"
Something skittered.
A low hiss echoed through the black, like air leaking from a coffin.
Then—click. click. click.
From the void crawled three shapes—gaunt, jagged-limbed skeletal beasts, their spines arched like broken scythes. Their eye sockets glowed faint red, thin and furious. They were smaller than knights but faster, leaner—predators.
Fenric’s voice floated out, calm as frostbite.
"Revenant Stalkers. They hunt mages."
Laxin squeaked. "We are mages!"
"Precisely," Fenric said.
The Stalkers lunged.
"Veil—flank!" Aria snapped, instinct kicking in like lightning.Her Deathbinder slid sideways in eerie silence, runes spiraling around its wand.
"Clatter—uh—stall them!" Laxin yelped.
Clatter bravely screamed and tripped forward, flinging green sparks everywhere like a panicked disco ball.
One spark hit a Stalker in the jaw. Its skull spun off and clattered across the floor like an angry ping-pong ball.
"Direct hit—kind of!" Laxin yelled.
The other two Stalkers vaulted over Clatter like demonic acrobats, claws flashing.
"Shield wall!" Aria barked.
Veil slammed its staff down. A violet wall of fire burst up between them and the Stalkers. The creatures hit it like arrows and bounced, howling in fury as their bones smoked.
"Push them!" she commanded.
Veil flicked its wand. The wall exploded outward in a shockwave. The Stalkers were hurled back, limbs flailing like furious boomerangs.
"Clatter, volley-fire!" Laxin screamed.
Clatter rolled onto its knees and rapid-fired green bolts like it was possessed by a caffeinated squirrel. Two bolts hit the ceiling. One hit a Stalker’s ribcage. It exploded like a very angry xylophone.
The last Stalker hit the ground, skidding, and launched again—directly for Laxin.
He froze.
Its claws were inches from his face—
—and Veil appeared in front of him, runes blazing like a falling star. It unleashed a lance of purple fire that vaporized the Stalker midair, scattering bone dust across the floor.
Silence.
Laxin stood very still. His hair was slightly on fire.
"...Teamwork," he whispered hoarsely. "Actual teamwork."
Aria’s hands shook from adrenaline. But she smiled. "They’re learning."
Clatter sat down, smoking gently from the staff tip. Veil stood like a statue carved out of arrogance and moonlight.
And from the shadows, Fenric emerged. Not a speck of dust on him. Not even his hair out of place.
"...Marginally competent," he said.
Laxin nearly sobbed. "That’s an upgrade!"
Fenric’s gaze swept the smoking battlefield. "Continue training. At dawn, you will attempt coordinated necrotic fusion protocols."
Aria blinked. "Fusion...?"
"Two minds," Fenric said, "One spellform. Twice the firepower. Five times the risk of catastrophic implosion."
"...What’s the acceptable failure rate?" Laxin asked cautiously.
"Zero," Fenric replied. "And yet, I expect several entertaining explosions."
He turned, cloak swirling like a very judgmental thundercloud, and strode away.
The door slammed behind him with the finality of a signature on your resignation letter.
Aria and Laxin stared at each other in the smoky dark.
"...We’re going to die," Laxin said softly.
Aria’s grin was all teeth. "Then let’s make it spectacular."
Clatter sneezed bone dust. Veil rolled its eye-flames like a disappointed professor.
The next night, the training hall had been stripped bare.
No runes glowed.
No braziers burned.
Only a single circle dominated the stone floor, etched so deep it looked carved by lightning and regret.
Laxin stared at it like it might ask for his social security number.
"...This looks like the floor is going to sue us," he muttered.
Fenric’s voice was mild, which was somehow worse.
"Possibly. The goal is to merge your two constructs into one functional entity. Success yields synergy. Failure yields—"
"Death?" Laxin guessed hopefully.
"—a highly localized implosion." Fenric’s eyes gleamed. "Possibly with screaming."
Laxin made a tiny whimper noise like a malfunctioning tea kettle.
Aria, by contrast, stood straight-backed, eyes sharp. Veil hovered behind her like a patient blade. "What’s the principle?"
Fenric clasped his hands behind his back. "Mana resonance alignment. Soul-thread braiding. And the absolute synchronization of intent. If either of you waver, the combined form will collapse violently."
"Violently like... loud?" Laxin asked.
"Violently like ’goodbye, legs,’" Fenric clarified.
"Cool," Laxin said faintly. "Love having legs."
They stood at opposite ends of the circle.
Clatter stood by Laxin, wobbling slightly like a guilty broom.
Veil floated at Aria’s side, steady as gravity.
"Begin," Fenric said.
Aria inhaled. She reached out with her will—threading mana like silk strands toward Veil.
Laxin swallowed, slapped his cheeks, and shoved his mana toward Clatter like he was punting a beach ball into the sun.
The circle shivered.
Veil’s violet flames pulsed.
Clatter’s green sparks jittered.
The circle’s runes rose into the air like a cyclone of light, spinning faster and faster, pulling both skeletons toward the center.
"Link their cores," Fenric said calmly. "Not their bones. Their souls."
Aria focused—her mind reaching like a bridge, touching Veil’s essence: cold, sharp, calculating.
Laxin reached Clatter’s core: nervous, chaotic, vaguely sticky.
"Blend, don’t fight," Aria murmured.
"Clatter, be less... Clatter," Laxin begged.
The runes slammed together.
A shockwave burst outward, rattling the entire hall.
For one heart-stopping second, there was nothing.
Then—
BOOM.
Light erupted like a star going through an identity crisis.
When the glare faded, something stood in the circle.
Tall.
Armored in bone plates laced with glowing sigils.
A single skull, but crowned by twin halos of violet and green flame that burned together in shifting swirls.
In one hand, it held a crooked wand.
In the other, a jagged blade.
Its eye sockets glowed with both their colors—purple and green swirling like twin storms in the same sea.
It... bowed.
Aria’s mouth fell open.
"...We did it."