Show menu NOVEL BIN5Novel Extra Survival Guide to Overpowering Hero and Villain Chapter 84: Necro Archmagus Grimoire XIIEXTRA SURVIVAL GUIDE TO OVERPOWERING HERO AND VILLAINC84: Necro Archmagus Grimoire XII
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.
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Show menu NOVEL BIN5Novel Extra Survival Guide to Overpowering Hero and Villain Chapter 85: Necro Archmagus Grimoire XIIIEXTRA SURVIVAL GUIDE TO OVERPOWERING HERO AND VILLAINC85: Necro Archmagus Grimoire XIII
Chapter 85: Necro Archmagus Grimoire XIII
The torches' last embers faded, and the chamber door ground shut with a heavy thud.
For several long minutes, Aria and Laxin lay sprawled among the wreckage of bones and dented armor, too drained to even move.
Finally, Laxin groaned and flopped an arm over his face. "I don't know what hurts more—my body, my pride, or the fact that our deadliest weapon tonight was a loose skull on the floor."
Aria turned her head toward him, her cheek pressed against cold stone. "...We still won."
"Yeah," Laxin said, his voice muffled under his arm. "But can you imagine telling anyone how? 'Oh yes, our great triumph—Sir Slips-a-Lot and his domino squad.' We'd be legends. Ridiculed legends."
Aria let out a laugh that came out more like a cough. "Better ridiculous legends than dead failures."
He peeked one bloodshot eye at her. "...You're too optimistic. It's unnerving."
"You're just too negative," she shot back, though the words lacked real bite.
Silence fell again, broken only by the soft rattle of bones settling in the aftermath. For all their exhaustion, for all the bruises and burns, the strange truth sank in—every day they survived Fenric's trials, they were changing. Tougher. Sharper. Closer to something they didn't quite recognize yet.
At last, Aria forced herself to sit up, hugging her knees. "What do you think he meant? 'Something that does not slip on bones.'"
Laxin dragged himself halfway upright, hair sticking up in every direction. "I don't know. But with our luck? Probably some nightmare beast with claws the size of tree trunks and a personality that hates laughter."
Aria's lips curved faintly. "...Then we'll just make it slip on something else."
Laxin snorted, then winced, clutching his ribs. "Gods, stop saying things that make me laugh. I think I broke important organs."
Despite everything, they both laughed weakly, their voices echoing through the ruined chamber.
The next morning came far too quickly.
The chamber lit itself as they staggered inside, bruised but standing. Fenric was already waiting in the center, grimoire hovering before him. His silver eyes flicked toward them once, unreadable, then dropped back to the glowing pages.
No words. No warnings.
The floor split apart once more.
From the shadows, this time, did not rise soldiers, nor mages, nor even armored knights.
A shape emerged—a hulking beast, stitched together from countless bones. Its spine arched like a jagged mountain ridge, its skull massive, fangs glinting even in the dim light. Its body was held together not by sinew, but by black flames that burned faintly within its ribcage.
A skeletal direwolf. Twice the size of a horse. Its empty eyes burned blue with cold hunger as it loosed a soundless, rattling howl that shook the floor.
Aria froze, her throat dry. "...That... is new."
Laxin's jaw dropped. "Nope. Nope. Not doing this. We're not ready for that. That thing doesn't even have ankles to trip!"
Fenric's voice cut through their panic like a knife.
"Adapt."
The wolf lowered its head, claws scraping sparks across the stone.
Then it charged.
The skeletal wolf thundered across the chamber, each claw strike echoing like a hammer on stone. The floor shook under its weight, bones clattering as its massive jaws opened wide.
Aria's heart leapt into her throat. "Shields—now!"
Her skeletons jerked forward, raising their battered shields just in time. The wolf crashed into them with a deafening bang. Shields shattered, skeletons flew like dice scattered by a careless hand, and the beast hardly slowed.
"Bad idea! Terrible idea!" Laxin yelped, hurling a panicked blast of dead mana at the wolf's head. The black energy splashed harmlessly over its skull, leaving it glowing faintly blue instead.
The beast's eyes flared brighter. It swung its tail like a whip, smashing two skeletons into the wall.
"Don't make it stronger!" Aria shouted, grabbing Laxin by the sleeve and yanking him back before the wolf's claws gouged the stone where they'd been standing.
"I panicked!" Laxin barked, clutching his staff. His voice cracked. "What do we do?! It's like fighting an avalanche with spoons!"
Aria grit her teeth, forcing herself to focus. The flames inside the wolf's ribcage—its core wasn't bone. It was mana. Dark mana, like Fenric's. That was holding it together.
"The chest!" she gasped. "Its fire—if we break it, it falls apart!"
"Great!" Laxin snapped. "And how do you suggest we get through the nightmare bone fortress around it?!"
The wolf lunged again. Aria dove sideways, rolling across the ground. Laxin scrambled the other way, his skeletons bravely—stupidly—charging at the beast to buy them time. One knight skeleton clambered onto the wolf's back, stabbing down with its rusted blade, only to be flung off and crushed under a claw swipe.
Aria's mind raced. Direct strikes weren't working. The wolf's body was too durable.
Then she saw it—the beast's ribs flared when it howled, exposing the black flame for a split second.
Her eyes widened. "Laxin!" she screamed. "We don't fight it—we time it!"
He blinked at her, panting. "Time what?"
The wolf's head tilted back, flames glowing deep in its ribcage as it prepared another bone-rattling howl.
Aria raised her hand, mana coiling at her fingertips. "That!"
The howl tore through the chamber. Bones rattled. Stone trembled. The ribs spread wide.
"Now!" Aria roared.
Both of them unleashed their dead mana at once—two black bolts streaking across the chamber, slipping between the ribs like arrows through a gate.
They struck the black flame dead-on.
The wolf shrieked soundlessly, staggering as cracks splintered across its bones. Blue fire burst from its chest in wild arcs.
"Keep hitting it!" Aria cried, already gathering more mana.
"For once," Laxin gasped, "I like your ideas!"
Their next blasts hit together.
With a final shudder, the skeletal wolf collapsed, its bones scattering like dry leaves, its black flame flickering out into nothing.
Silence fell. Only their ragged breathing remained.
Aria sank to her knees, clutching her chest. Laxin leaned against his staff, sweat dripping down his face.
Then he let out a weak laugh. "We... we killed a bone wolf."
Aria, exhausted but smiling, nodded. "Together."
Laxin smirked faintly. "...Fine. But I'm still calling it Sir Slips-a-Lot's revenge."
The door to the chamber opened with a slow creak.
Fenric stepped in, cloak trailing behind him, silver eyes cold as frost. He glanced at the shattered remains of the skeletal wolf, then at the two of them still half-collapsed on the floor.
Neither Aria nor Laxin dared to speak.
Fenric's gaze lingered on the smoldering ashes of black flame before shifting back to them. "You destroyed it."
Aria nodded quickly, still catching her breath. "Its chest... the core was exposed when it howled. We targeted that."
Laxin, too tired to stand, just lifted a hand and said, "Teamwork. And screaming. Lots of screaming."
Fenric raised one eyebrow, then slowly closed his grimoire with a snap. "Crude. Inefficient. But effective."
For a heartbeat, Aria thought he was about to scold them again. But then he turned, his cloak whispering across the stone.
"You've proven you can adapt. That is the first step to survival."
He stopped at the doorway, not looking back. "Tomorrow, I will show you the next kind of soldier."
The door shut, leaving the chamber dark again.
Laxin groaned, flopping flat on his back. "Next kind? What's left? Bone birds? Skeleton whales? Oh gods, please not skeleton whales."
Aria chuckled softly, brushing dust off her sleeve. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out."
Laxin rolled his head toward her, eyes half-closed. "Why do you always sound so confident after we nearly die?"
She smirked faintly. "Because we didn't die."
One of Laxin's skeletons—a knight missing its helmet—wobbled over and dropped the wolf's skull in his lap like a gift.
He stared at it, then sighed. "Congratulations, Aria. We now own the ugliest paperweight in the world."
The skull's jaw clacked shut by itself, as if laughing at him.
"...I hate necromancy," Laxin muttered.
The next morning, the chamber torches lit one by one, their flames unnaturally steady, like they were holding their breath for what was about to arrive.
Aria and Laxin stood ready—or as ready as two exhausted necromancer apprentices could be with bags under their eyes and joints that still felt like cracked glass.
Fenric stood at the center, his grimoire hovering beside him, pages turning on their own. His silver gaze swept across them, unreadable.
"Yesterday," he said, voice calm, "you fought instinct. Today, you will fight discipline."
The floor cracked. Dust rained from the ceiling. From the darkness below rose a single figure.
At first, it looked like another knight, but taller. Broader. Its armor was not rusted but polished black, its helmet crowned with jagged horns. A cloak of tattered crimson hung from its shoulders, still carrying the faint stink of dried blood.
Its sword was enormous—too large for a man, but it wielded it with ease. And unlike the other knights, this one moved with slow, deliberate purpose. Not a puppet. Not a stumbling corpse.
A commander.
Aria's heart tightened. "This one's different..."
Fenric's lips curved the faintest fraction. "This one thinks."
The undead knight raised its sword in salute, then slammed the blade into the ground. The floor pulsed—and from the shadows, skeletal soldiers rose, forming ranks in tight formation. Shields interlocked, spears braced.
Aria froze. "It... it has an army?"
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Show menu NOVEL BIN5Novel Extra Survival Guide to Overpowering Hero and Villain Chapter 86: Necro Archmagus Grimoire XIVEXTRA SURVIVAL GUIDE TO OVERPOWERING HERO AND VILLAINC86: Necro Archmagus Grimoire XIV
Chapter 86: Necro Archmagus Grimoire XIV
Laxin's jaw dropped, his voice cracking. "Oh, no. Nope. Nope. Not fair. That's cheating! We didn't get an army manual!"
The commander's crimson eyes burned brighter as its soldiers locked shields with flawless precision, the metallic slam echoing across the chamber.
Aria's throat went dry. These weren't the clumsy bone piles they'd been breaking before. This was organized. Disciplined. An army, even in death.
Fenric's cold voice cut through like a blade. "A leader turns chaos into strength. Show me if you can break his order."
The commander lifted its massive sword and pointed forward.
The phalanx surged.
Spears thrust in unison. Shields slammed forward as one wall of bone and iron.
Aria scrambled back, summoning skeletal warriors from the scattered bones around her, trying to form her own line. Her creations stumbled into place, shields rattling.
The clash was instant—and brutal.
Her skeletons shattered in seconds. Spears punched through skulls and ribcages, shields bashed them aside like toys. The ground littered with fragments as her connection to them snapped one by one.
Aria flinched, pain jolting through her. "Too strong—!"
"Too organized," Laxin barked, already firing a barrage of Bone Lances. They splintered harmlessly against raised shields, bouncing off as the wall advanced.
The commander marched behind them, massive blade poised, moving with slow inevitability.
Laxin's face went pale. "It's like fighting a marching band from hell."
Aria's mind raced. Direct clashes were suicide. They'd be crushed. She bit her lip hard, forcing herself to think. We can't overpower them. We have to break their rhythm.
Her eyes flicked to the floor. The stone was littered with shattered bones from earlier fights. A thought sparked.
"Trip them," she whispered.
"What?" Laxin yelped as he dove aside from a spear jab.
"Break their rhythm!" Aria shouted, slamming her palm to the floor. Mana surged, rattling loose bones into motion. They wove into traps—coiled around ankles, slid beneath boots.
The phalanx pressed forward, shields up... until one soldier stepped wrong. Its spear dipped a fraction. The one behind stumbled. The line faltered.
Aria's eyes lit up. "There! The cracks show!"
Laxin grinned through the sweat and panic. "Finally, a plan I like."
He raised his staff, channeling what mana he had left. Bone shards shot out like arrows, aimed not at the shields but at the joints—knees, elbows, necks.
A spear arm locked. Another shield wavered.
The phalanx shuddered.
Aria shoved harder, pulling the bone traps tighter. "Keep the pressure!"
The commander's head snapped toward her, crimson fire blazing in its sockets. With a single gesture, the faltering soldiers snapped back into line, rhythm restored.
Then the commander strode forward itself.
It didn't need the formation. Its greatsword swung down like a guillotine.
Aria gasped, throwing up a desperate shield of bones. The blade cleaved through like paper, the shockwave hurling her back. She hit the floor, coughing blood.
"Aria!" Laxin roared, his hands trembling as he gathered more mana. He unleashed a barrage straight at the commander.
The knight raised its shield, deflecting every strike with inhuman precision.
Fenric's voice echoed from the shadows. Calm. Cold. Unyielding.
"Adapt—or be broken."
The commander advanced, every step heavy as doom.
Aria staggered up, her legs shaking, but she forced her bones to rise again. Her skeletons lurched to their feet, cracked and broken, yet still obeying her call. Sweat poured down her face as her mana burned thin.
The undead commander strode forward, greatsword dragging sparks against the floor. Every step made the air feel heavier.
Laxin's lips trembled. "We... we can't stop that thing..."
Aria clenched her teeth, fire sparking in her eyes despite her pain. "We're not supposed to stop it. We just need to outlast it."
Laxin blinked. "Outlast—?!"
The commander lunged. Its massive blade cut an arc that could have cleaved through five men at once. Aria pushed her last shield forward, bones fusing thick around her like a dome. The strike landed with a thunderclap, shattering half the barrier instantly.
Aria collapsed to her knees, vision blurring.
Laxin dove in beside her, his staff glowing faintly. "Alright, fine! If you're going to be stubborn, then we do this together!"
He slammed his staff down, spikes of bone bursting from the ground—not at the commander, but around its feet, forming jagged walls and uneven terrain.
Aria's eyes widened. He was limiting its movement.
She forced her hands up, bones writhing across the floor into skeletal ropes. They whipped forward, coiling around the commander's sword arm.
For the first time, the knight slowed.
Its crimson eyes flared, and it ripped the bone restraints apart in seconds—but that heartbeat of resistance was enough.
Laxin roared, firing another volley at its exposed joints. Shards cracked into the gaps of its armor, not stopping it, but forcing it to shift.
The rhythm was broken.
The phalanx behind it faltered again, stepping into the uneven ground, colliding into each other as Aria's traps snagged their ankles. The shield wall splintered.
Aria shouted, voice raw: "Push now!"
The two of them threw everything they had left—bone spears, skeletal ropes, jagged spikes. It wasn't clean, it wasn't perfect, but it was desperate enough.
The commander staggered, shield lowering for a moment under the barrage.
Then—
CLANG!
The greatsword swept again, breaking through their combined assault. The shockwave flung Laxin into the far wall, blood spraying from his mouth. Aria barely held her ground, coughing violently.
The knight raised its sword high for the finishing blow.
And then—
Fenric's voice cut through the chamber, steady, commanding, cold as winter.
"Enough."
The commander froze. Its blade stopped inches from Aria's head.
Aria's heart pounded so hard it hurt. She looked up, trembling.
Fenric stepped from the shadows, his silvery hair glinting faintly in the torchlight. His eyes burned with quiet authority.
"You fought clumsily. You bled too much. You nearly broke."
His gaze fell on Aria, then on Laxin crumpled against the wall.
"But..." His tone shifted, almost like a whisper of approval. "...you adapted."
The commander lowered its sword and knelt before Fenric, the phalanx behind it reforming in silence.
Aria fell back, gasping, every nerve in her body shaking. Laxin groaned from the wall, blood dripping down his chin.
"...I hate training," he muttered.
Fenric's lips curved the faintest fraction upward. "Good. Then you are learning."
The training chamber was silent except for the faint rattle of armor as the undead knight returned to its place behind Fenric. Aria pressed a trembling hand to the ground, dragging herself upright, while Laxin slid down the wall and sat there breathing like he'd just wrestled a mountain.
Neither dared to speak first.
Fenric let the silence stretch, letting it dig into their bones heavier than the commander's strikes ever could. Finally, he moved. With a flick of his wrist, the air shimmered, and his grimoire floated before him. Pages turned on their own, stopping at a section that pulsed with faint, dark light.
His tone was calm, almost casual. "What you two saw today was structure. Discipline. A commander that binds soldiers into one will." His eyes lifted, sharp as blades. "If all you can summon are mobs of bones with no leader, you will always crumble the moment order stands against you."
Aria swallowed, still shaking, but she dared to ask, "So... it's not enough to just make skeletons stronger?"
Fenric closed the grimoire with a snap. "Strength without command is wasted." He stepped closer, and the undead knight knelt again at his side, the faint red fire in its helm flaring. "This... is a commander-class summon. One who takes your will, and spreads it to the rest. With it, an army moves like one body."
Laxin blinked, half in awe, half in despair. "Wait, wait, wait—you're telling me we've been breaking our backs just to get these boneheads to swing their swords in the right direction... and you've had cheat codes this whole time?"
The undead knight's helm turned toward him, eye flames flickering as if offended.
Aria quickly bowed her head to cover a laugh. Fenric's expression didn't shift, though the faintest glimmer of amusement passed in his eyes.
"Not cheat codes," he said evenly. "Simply... higher spells. Which you now will attempt."
Aria and Laxin froze.
"W–wait, now?!" Laxin sputtered, still clutching his ribs. "We can barely stand!"
Fenric's voice was quiet, but unyielding. "The battlefield won't wait for your breath to return. Summon."
The chamber went still. Aria's eyes flickered toward her grimoire, her hand hovering uncertainly over its pages. She could feel the pull of the new spells like a whisper in her mind, heavy, dangerous, yet calling to her.
Laxin groaned, dragging himself upright with his staff. "Fine... but if I end up summoning a skeleton donkey instead of a knight, I'm blaming you."
Aria almost smiled despite her fear. Together, they both reached for the page.
And as their fingers brushed across the glowing script, the ground began to rumble.
The ground rumbled louder, and a chill swept through the chamber as Aria and Laxin both channeled mana into the glowing runes on their grimoires.
Aria's circle formed clean and sharp—lines of silver light etching themselves into the floor. Laxin's... was wobbly, flickering like it couldn't decide whether to stay or fall apart.
Then, bones rose.
Aria's first. A full frame assembled from the floor: broad shoulders, tall, armored. A skeletal knight, its bones fused with faint traces of dark steel, stood before her, bowing its head slightly as if awaiting command.
She gasped. "I... I did it."
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Show menu NOVEL BIN5Novel Extra Survival Guide to Overpowering Hero and Villain Chapter 87: Necro Archmagus Grimoire XVEXTRA SURVIVAL GUIDE TO OVERPOWERING HERO AND VILLAINC87: Necro Archmagus Grimoire XV
Chapter 87: Necro Archmagus Grimoire XV
The skeletal knight straightened, its blue eye-flames glowing steadily as it planted its sword into the ground like a banner. It radiated something her previous summons never had—presence. It didn't twitch or wobble. It stood.
Aria's heart pounded. "It's... stable. Fully stable."
Across from her—
CLATTER-CRASH-CLUNK.
Laxin's circle finally sparked—and promptly vomited bones everywhere like an angry blender. A helmet bounced off his forehead with a donk.
"Gah! Okay—okay, stay calm—" he muttered, frantically trying to force the swirling mass to take shape.
The bones wobbled together into something vaguely humanoid, then sprouted an extra ribcage from its shoulder and a spare skull in its hip like some kind of grotesque decoration. It wobbled once... then sneezed.
Yes. Sneezed.
Its helmet popped off and rolled away like a sulking cat.
Aria bit her lip to stop herself laughing. "...Is that its battle cry?"
"It's... it's custom!" Laxin declared through gritted teeth, sweat flying from his hair. "A limited-edition multi-skull build!"
The abomination let out a low clonk and sat down like a tired old man. One of its spare arms waved limply.
Fenric pinched the bridge of his nose like a patient accountant dealing with an overdue invoice. "Laxin. Again."
"I am trying!" Laxin barked. "But this spell's like juggling swords while on fire, blindfolded, and also sad!"
"Then stop being sad," Fenric said dryly.
Laxin froze mid-panic. "...That's not advice, that's a threat."
Meanwhile, Aria gently tested her knight, commanding it to raise its shield. It obeyed perfectly, the metal sliding up with crisp precision. She felt the link—clean, strong, like silk thread drawn taut. A real connection.
Her lips parted in wonder. "I can... feel its mind. It's not just obeying—it's listening."
Fenric gave a single approving nod. "That is command. Not power, not force. Will."
Laxin scowled, trying to copy her mana flow—only for his knight to faceplant directly into the floor with a bone-splitting thunk.
Aria finally cracked, laughter spilling out uncontrollably.
"NOT HELPING," Laxin shouted from the floor as his creation raised its arm like it was asking for permission to be dead again.
Fenric's voice stayed calm as still water. "Continue until it stands, Laxin. You will not leave this room until it salutes you."
Laxin groaned, crawling over to rest his forehead against the floor. "...I hate my life."
Aria's knight shifted slightly, as if smirking.
Fenric's silver gaze swept over both apprentices. "Once you master this, we begin the mage-class skeletons."
Both of them froze.
"Wait... mages?!" Laxin squawked. "As in... skeletons that cast things?!"
"Correct," Fenric replied evenly. "If you cannot command warriors, you will never survive commanding spellcasters."
Aria's eyes lit up with fire. Laxin's filled with despair.
"...We are all going to explode," he whispered.
Aria straightened her shoulders, eyes still on her knight. "Then let's make it glorious."
The air practically crackled with new ambition.
Fenric's lips curved, just barely, like a storm cloud pretending to be a smile. "Excellent. I expect results... not rubble."
"...Rubble is a result," Laxin muttered.
Fenric's gaze slid to him like a guillotine made of ice.
Laxin immediately sat up straighter. "A—bad result! A very bad result. No rubble. Got it."
Aria was still locked onto her knight, eyes bright, voice low like she was whispering to a beloved pet. "I can teach it to block... to counter... maybe even lead the others..."
"That is the objective," Fenric said. "Knights obey. Mages... cooperate."
Laxin squinted suspiciously. "Wait—are you saying skeleton mages have personalities?"
Fenric's tone was dry enough to parch a desert. "Personalities. Tempers. Egos the size of small castles."
Laxin paled. "...We're going to get roasted by bones with attitude."
Aria clapped her hands once, determination cutting through the gloom. "Then we'll just have to impress them."
Her skeletal knight turned its helm toward her and gave the faintest nod, as if in agreement.
Laxin's mangled bone-creature sneezed again. A spare femur shot out like a javelin, lodging into the ceiling.
Everyone stared at it.
"...I meant to do that," Laxin said, voice thin as paper.
"Impress them," Fenric repeated, stepping toward the center of the training hall. The floor glyphs flickered to life beneath his boots, rings of pale light spiraling outward like ripples on moonlit water.
He raised one hand—and the air dropped in temperature, cold and sharp as cut glass.
Dark glyphs coiled in the air behind him like chains of shadowed fire. The ground trembled. The braziers along the walls flickered low.
A whisper rose from nowhere. No... not a whisper. A chant. Countless voices, dry and hollow as tombs.
A circle flared to life—massive, complex, burning cold blue.
"Observe," Fenric murmured.
A pillar of black mist surged upward like a storm given shape. From it stepped a skeleton draped in tattered robes of midnight. Its empty eye sockets burned with silver fire. In its hand was a staff of petrified bone crowned with a floating shard of obsidian that hummed like a living heartbeat.
Aria's breath caught.
Laxin's soul tried to evacuate his body.
The skeleton raised its staff and spoke a word that cracked the air like shattering ice—
and five runes ignited in the air around it.
"That," Fenric said quietly, "is a Deathbinder. A first-tier mage-class undead."
The Deathbinder tilted its head... and bowed to him.
Laxin whimpered. "We're... so dead..."
Fenric turned, his silver eyes like blades of winter. "Now. Your turn."
Aria's hands trembled—not with fear, but exhilaration.
Laxin's hands trembled with all the fear.
And the summoning circles began to glow.
The glow deepened, threads of pale light crawling across the floor like veins of molten moonlight.
Aria closed her eyes, drawing her mana inward like a deep breath, then letting it unfurl in slow spirals. The circle answered, humming as if it recognized her will. She focused on what she wanted—not power, not force, but clarity. A mind that could listen. A soul of cold fire.
The air around her shimmered.
With a soft whump, the circle blossomed like a black flower—petals of shadow unfolding outward.
A figure rose from it, slender and robed in shredded dusk. Its skull was smooth, polished bone etched with faint silver sigils. In its grasp was a crooked wand, the tip crowned by a hovering shard of dim violet light. Its eyes flared with calm, cold flame.
It stood perfectly still.
Waiting. Watching.
Aria's breath hitched. "...Hello."
The skeletal mage inclined its skull a fraction, as if acknowledging her words.
Fenric's voice cut through the silence. "Name it."
"Veil," she said at once. The name just... fit. Quiet. Sharp. Hidden.
Veil's eyes flared once in answer. The link tightened, clean and smooth like glass silk. She could feel it thinking—measured, analytical, patient.
Across from her, Laxin was quietly having an emotional collapse.
His summoning circle flickered like a candle in a hurricane, runes popping in and out as if even the spell was second-guessing him. "Okay, alright, this is fine, this is fine, I'm fine—"
"Focus," Fenric said.
Laxin nodded so fast his hair nearly took off. "Right. Focus. Command, not force. Cool. I can do command. I command you to not explode. Please."
The circle sputtered—then erupted in a geyser of green flame and bone shards.
When it cleared, something was... standing? ...kind of.
It wore what might once have been robes, now mostly charred ribbons. Its skull was on backwards. Its jaw kept falling off. It held its staff like it was trying to figure out which end was dangerous.
Its eye sockets blinked out of sync. Then it sneezed—and fired a small fireball directly into the floor at its own feet.
Laxin stared at it like it had personally betrayed him.
"...It's art," he whispered hoarsely.
Fenric didn't blink. "Fix it."
The creature hiccupped, caught its own jaw, and tried to reattach it backwards.
Aria bit her knuckle to keep from laughing. Veil just tilted its skull and made a faint clacking sound that might have been disapproval.
Fenric's tone was cold iron wrapped in calm. "You will shape them until they stand as mages, not accidents. When they can weave spells without falling apart, we begin Deathchanters."
Laxin went white. "That sounds... loud."
"They are," Fenric said simply. "And they scream."
Laxin whispered, "I hate this class..."
Aria's smile sharpened like moonlight on glass. "Then let's make them scream for us."
Veil's violet eyes flared bright.
Laxin's backwards mage set its own sleeve on fire.
"Alright," Fenric said, pacing between them like an executioner on break, "Mages require subtlety. Precision. Coordination between mana threads."
He stopped and looked at Laxin. "Qualities you currently do not possess."
Laxin saluted with the energy of a man falling off a cliff. "Understood. I will acquire subtlety immediately."
His skeletal mage, affectionately now called "Oops," was trying to eat its own staff.
Aria knelt before Veil, her voice low and steady. "Focus on me. Channel from your core. Gather mana at the tip, then release on my mark."
Veil lifted its crooked wand with elegant stillness. A faint glow pulsed at the tip, soft and precise like moonlight dripping off glass.
Aria whispered, "Now."
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Show menu NOVEL BIN5Novel Extra Survival Guide to Overpowering Hero and Villain Chapter 88: Necro Archmagus Grimoire XVIEXTRA SURVIVAL GUIDE TO OVERPOWERING HERO AND VILLAINC88: Necro Archmagus Grimoire XVI
Chapter 88: Necro Archmagus Grimoire XVI
Veil's wand flared—
—a thread of violet light lanced forward, thin as a hair and sharp as a scream.
It struck the training dummy square in the chest.
There was no explosion. No shattering.
Just a soft, shivering pop—and the entire dummy folded inward on itself like collapsing paper, leaving behind a drifting puff of cold ash.
The silence afterward was so absolute it felt like the air had forgotten how to breathe.
Aria exhaled slowly. A smile curved across her lips, quiet and dangerous. "...Perfect."
Fenric's gaze flicked to Veil, then to her, the faintest glint of approval slicing like frost through moonlight. "Controlled. Surgical. Lethal."
Veil lowered its wand with a whisper of cloth, eyes dimming back to that soft steady glow—like coals that had decided to think instead of burn.
Across the room, Laxin's mage "Oops" had successfully managed to set its own robes, staff, and possibly soul on fire. It was currently spinning in frantic circles, flinging sparks everywhere while shrieking like a kettle possessed by regret.
"STOP—DROP—ROLL—" Laxin yelled, running after it in small frantic hops.
The flaming skeleton tripped over its own spine, faceplanted, and kept screaming while lying perfectly still like a very dramatic corpse—which, to be fair, it was.
Fenric pinched the bridge of his nose again, looking like a saint considering early retirement. "Laxin."
"Y-yes?" Laxin squeaked from beneath the rolling fire hazard.
"Explain," Fenric said, with the tone of a man asking why the sun had been replaced with a chicken.
Laxin froze. "Uh. Spontaneous combustion... is a... tactical choice?"
Aria choked on a laugh. Veil made that disapproving click again, like a skeletal schoolteacher grading on disappointment.
Fenric turned, his voice suddenly soft. Too soft. Like a velvet glove over a guillotine.
"Laxin... extinguish it. Then try again. Or I will."
Laxin's soul visibly attempted to climb out his ears and flee to a quieter dimension. "Yes, sir! On it! Fixing it right now! No more accidental arson!"
He flailed his hands and somehow managed to douse Oops in a splash of panicked ice mana. The skeleton froze solid mid-scream, then fell over like an overly dramatic popsicle.
"...Progress?" Laxin offered weakly.
"Grim failure," Fenric corrected. "But... less flammable. So, marginally improved."
Aria straightened from her crouch, heart still racing with triumph. "Veil can target weak points. It thinks before casting."
"That," Fenric said, eyes narrowing in satisfaction, "is the difference between power and destruction."
His silver gaze slid back to Laxin. "And you will learn it if it kills you."
"...It's definitely going to kill me," Laxin muttered.
"Then die efficiently," Fenric replied blandly, already turning away.
Aria hid her grin behind her hand.
Veil, very faintly, smirked.
(Or maybe its skull just tilted in a way that looked smug. Either way, it felt smug.)
Fenric clapped his hands once. The sound cracked like thunder.
"Again. Both of you. Mage-class constructs are the first step. Deathchanters await."
Laxin whimpered. Aria smiled like a spark catching kindling.
Veil raised its wand.
Oops' frozen jaw fell off.
The training hall thrummed with gathering power—two circles beginning to glow once more, light spinning out in precise rings and chaotic spirals.
The next round had begun.
And this time, one of them was aiming to impress...
...and the other was aiming to survive.
The glyph-circles bloomed again—
Aria's like a poised rose carved of moonlight.
Laxin's like a drunken fireworks display fighting for its life.
Mana pressure surged, making the training hall's walls hum. The braziers flickered nervously, as if reconsidering their career paths.
Aria drew her mana in—smooth, precise, every thread aligned like harp strings. Veil stood perfectly still at the center of her circle, as if meditating inside a storm. Pale violet sparks danced at its wand-tip, pulsing in perfect rhythm to her heartbeat.
Laxin, meanwhile, was audibly narrating his own breakdown.
"Okay, structure first, then mind-link, then robes... probably... oh no the ribs are upside-down again—"
There was a noise like a skeletal hiccup, and something burst from his circle in a gout of green flame and sheer existential doubt.
This one was... marginally better. It had one skull. It was facing the correct direction. It held its staff in the correct hand. Its jaw was only halfway falling off.
Laxin gasped like he'd just witnessed a miracle. "It has symmetry! It's BEAUTIFUL!"
The mage blinked, raised its staff... and immediately tripped over its own robe hem. The staff clonked off its skull, and the jaw fell off again.
Aria didn't even blink. "Name it."
Laxin scrambled, panicked. "Uh—uh—Mystic... Bone... Supreme...?"
The skeleton mage paused mid-faceplant, as though offended by the name on a spiritual level.
Fenric's voice sliced through like cold steel. "It will not respect you if you do not respect it. Name with intention."
Laxin's panic hiccupped into something quieter. He stared at the awkward thing trying to stand again. It was clumsy, crooked, wrong... but stubborn. Still trying.
"...Clatter," he said finally.
The skeleton froze—then slowly, shakily rose upright. Its eye-flames flickered, just once, as though acknowledging.
Aria's eyes widened faintly. "...It listened."
Fenric's silver gaze flicked toward Laxin like a hawk catching movement. "Good."
"Good?!" Laxin squeaked.
"Marginally," Fenric amended. "Do not celebrate mediocrity. Shape it."
"Yes, sir," Laxin whispered, as if speaking any louder might make Clatter collapse out of shame.
Veil turned its skull toward Clatter and tilted it... approvingly. Or at least curiously.
Clatter attempted to return the gesture, but its neck spun halfway around. It quickly spun it back, pretending nothing happened.
"Now," Fenric said, stepping back into the shadows like a disappointed god, "demonstrate control. Each of you—one offensive spell. On my mark."
Aria inhaled, eyes sharp. "Ready."
Laxin nodded, visibly vibrating like a tuning fork.
Fenric raised a hand.
The floor hummed. Mana threads trembled like drawn bowstrings.
"Mark."
Aria's command was a whipcrack: "Veil. Pierce."
Veil's wand flared—a razor-thin lance of violet light slicing clean through the training dummy's heart. The impact made no sound at all, just left a perfect, smoking hole. The dummy sagged like an empty coat.
Laxin swallowed. "Clatter... do the thing."
Clatter lifted its staff. Slowly. Carefully. Mana crackled at the tip like a hesitant match.
Then it sneezed.
A wobbling green fireball launched sideways and blasted a support column, which immediately caught on fire.
"...Directionally challenged, but enthusiastic," Laxin offered faintly.
Fenric's gaze could have frozen lava. "Precision."
"Yes sir," Laxin squeaked, already sprinting to put out the fire with his bare panic.
Aria stood tall, proud, Veil's violet eyes gleaming like twin shards of silent moonlight.
Fenric folded his arms, voice calm as a glacier. "Acceptable progress. Barely. Again."
Laxin flopped onto his knees, arms flailing. "AGAIN?! It just set architecture on fire!"
"Then this time," Fenric said, "aim for the enemy instead of the building."
"...You say that like it's easy," Laxin muttered.
"It is," Fenric replied with absolute serenity.
Aria tried not to smile as Veil spun its wand like a duelist preparing for an elegant murder.
Clatter, still slightly smoldering, shakily raised its staff in grim determination.
The third round was about to begin.
The air in the training hall stilled, the last curls of smoke from the scorched pillar fading into silence.
Fenric's boots clicked once against the stone floor—a small sound, but somehow it echoed like a judge's gavel.
"Enough practice," he said.
Laxin froze mid-fire-extinguishing with a charred rag in his hand. "...Enough as in 'we stop' or 'we die'?"
"Neither."
Fenric's silver gaze swept between them like a blizzard selecting its target.
"Dueling protocol. Mage versus mage."
Aria straightened as if someone had lit a fuse behind her. Veil turned its skull, calm as moonlight on glass. Its violet eyes gleamed.
Laxin's face went pale, then green, then possibly theoretical.
"W-we're doing what—"
"You will not improve by aiming at walls," Fenric said smoothly. "Walls do not retaliate."
"Yeah well NEITHER SHOULD BONES," Laxin hissed under his breath.
"Circle reset," Fenric ordered, stepping back with hands clasped behind him like an imperial auditor awaiting a spreadsheet. "Combat formation. Begin on my signal. Lethal force permitted, structural damage not."
Aria's heart thrummed. "Veil. Formation Delta."
Veil glided into place, staff raised, runes spinning around its wrist like slow orbiting moons.
Laxin gulped. "...Clatter, uh... do the pose."
Clatter snapped upright, spun its staff, tripped over its own foot, caught itself, and posed like an arthritic battle ballerina.
Fenric lifted his hand. "Mark."
The world snapped.
Veil vanished in a blur of shadow-thread. A violet bolt cracked across the space like a whip. Clatter yelped—well, made a noise like two coconuts colliding—and flung up a wobbling shield of green fire.
The bolt struck. The shield held... mostly.
It exploded in a shower of ghostly sparks, blasting Clatter backwards into a roll. Its jaw flew off midair. It caught it, slapped it back on, and stumbled upright with sheer indignation.
Laxin pumped a fist. "Yes! Clatter, retaliation pattern... uh... improvise!"
Clatter shrieked a war-cry that sounded like dry cutlery fighting, then fired three chaotic fireballs in three completely different directions.
One hit the ceiling, one scorched the floor, and the third screamed past Veil's skull like a green comet.
Veil didn't flinch. It simply pivoted, runes orbiting faster now, and extended one bony finger.
A violet ring unfolded around Clatter's feet.
"Oh no," Laxin breathed.
"Root bind," Aria commanded.
Violet energy shot upward like thorned vines—clamping Clatter's legs to the floor.
Clatter screeched and flailed. Its staff spun out of its hand, bonked it on the skull, and clattered (appropriately) to the ground.
Fenric's voice cut through the chaos like a razor. "Finish."
Aria's eyes sharpened. "Veil. Disarm."
Veil flicked its wrist. A crackling pulse shot out, hit Clatter square in the ribcage, and neatly severed its mana-thread connection.
Its eye flames winked out. The skeleton slumped into a harmless pile of bones.
The silence afterward was loud.
Then Laxin very quietly said, "...I hate my bones."
Fenric's expression did not change, but the faintest hint of approval brushed the edge of his tone.
"Aria: functional. Laxin: catastrophic, but alive. Again."
"AGAIN?!" Laxin howled, voice cracking like a distressed tea kettle.
Clatter's skull rolled in a small sad circle at his feet, as if even it was judging him.
Veil floated serenely, eyes glowing like twin coins of moonfire.
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Show menu NOVEL BIN5Novel Extra Survival Guide to Overpowering Hero and Villain Chapter 89: GrimoireEXTRA SURVIVAL GUIDE TO OVERPOWERING HERO AND VILLAINC89: Grimoire
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."
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Show menu NOVEL BIN5Novel Extra Survival Guide to Overpowering Hero and Villain Chapter 90: Grimoire IIEXTRA SURVIVAL GUIDE TO OVERPOWERING HERO AND VILLAINC90: Grimoire II
Chapter 90: Grimoire II
Laxin was making an unholy noise somewhere between a sob, a laugh, and a deflating bagpipe.
"I have... never... done anything... correctly before this moment," he gasped, clutching his own face like it might escape from joy overload.
The fused skeleton straightened, runes pulsing like twin heartbeats. It rotated its wrists experimentally—blade flashing, wand humming—and then set its feet in a stance that screamed ready to ruin someone's day with artistic precision.
Fenric regarded it with the same enthusiasm a glacier has for seasonal holidays.
"...Acceptable."
Aria almost burst. Laxin actually did, a squeaky squeal escaping.
"He said it! The A-word! That's basically praise!"
"Do not celebrate," Fenric said, cleaving their joy in half like a well-managed budget cut.
"This construct is stable in theory. You will now prove it in practice."
Aria blinked. "Practice... how?"
The floor glyphs around the training hall flared to life—sharp, cold, geometric—and began rearranging themselves like a very aggressive puzzle.
The ground trembled.
"Live-combat assessment," Fenric said.
"...Like, pretend-live or actually-live?" Laxin squeaked.
"Live," Fenric said simply, like gravity announcing it will continue existing.
The runes snapped into place.
And then the arena rose.
Stone walls erupted from the floor, reconfiguring into jagged platforms, shadowed alcoves, and hovering pillars. The training hall became a labyrinth of kill zones.
And from the far end... came the sound of chains breaking.
A skeletal knight lurched forward—larger than any before, plated in scorched black armor, eyes burning molten orange.
Then another.
And another.
Three of them, each dragging massive cleaver-like swords behind them, sparks shrieking from the stone.
"Elite Knight-class," Fenric said, as if reading a grocery list.
"Objective: survive. Duration: five minutes. Secondary objective: impress me."
"That last part feels impossible," Laxin whispered.
"Correct," Fenric said.
The fused skeleton—Aria dubbed it "Vex" on the spot because it looked like it had opinions—stepped forward. Its green-violet flames flared like twin storms gearing up for a performance review.
"Vex, suppression fire," Aria commanded.
"Vex, don't explode," Laxin added helpfully.
Vex blurred into motion—blade sweeping out in a crescent of green fire while its wand spat violet runes like angry fireworks. The first elite knight raised its cleaver—
—and Vex's blade caught it mid-swing, locking the impact with a crack of shattering air.
The wand flared.
A rune detonated point-blank in the knight's face.
Its helmet spun off like a rejected business proposal.
"YES!" Laxin screamed, then immediately ducked as another knight's cleaver demolished the stone where he'd been standing.
"Vex—disengage!" Aria barked.
Vex flipped backwards, cloak of bone fragments flaring. Runes spiraled around its feet, slowing its landing like a ghost doing parkour. The knights thundered after it, cleavers tearing furrows in the stone.
"Suppress left, bait right!" Aria called.
"Bait?" Laxin yelped. "We're the bait!"
"Exactly," Aria said, and sprinted right.
Vex followed, launching a salvo of crackling green bolts into the leftmost knight's legs. Armor shattered like sugar glass. It stumbled—and Veil's half-memory of grace surged through Vex's motions as it vaulted off a wall, came down like a falling star, and bisected the knight cleanly.
The corpse dissolved to dust.
"Down one!" Aria shouted.
"Two more! And I'm out of emotional stability!" Laxin shrieked.
The remaining knights closed from both flanks, cleavers swinging like very angry deadlines.
"Barrier pivot!" Aria commanded.
Vex slammed its wand down. A half-dome of violet force erupted—one cleaver rebounded off it with a thunderclap. The other cleaver broke through, splintering the barrier like it owed it money.
Vex twisted under the blow and counter-slashed, carving a glowing spiral into the knight's breastplate. Sparks and ash exploded outward.
The third knight lunged straight for Aria.
She froze for half a heartbeat—
—and Vex teleported.
One blink it was mid-slash.
Next blink it was between her and death, blade locking the cleaver an inch from her skull. Its runes flared incandescent white from overstrain.
Laxin screamed incoherently and threw a mana surge down the link like someone trying to restart a heart with a car battery.
Vex exploded.
Green-violet fire engulfed the knight. When it cleared, nothing remained but molten cleaver fragments.
The last knight stood alone.
Vex stood opposite, trembling, flames guttering low but defiant.
"Final strike," Aria whispered.
"Go bankrupt or go home," Laxin agreed shakily.
Vex straightened. It raised its blade and wand together.
Twin circles spun into existence at its feet, rotating opposite directions. Runes roared to life around its arms. The air itself warped.
The knight charged.
Vex moved.
A single slash.
A single rune.
The entire far wall disintegrated in a flash of colorless light.
When the dust cleared, the knight was gone.
Silence.
Vex turned, swaying, and planted its blade into the floor like a banner.
Its flames flickered weak but proud.
Laxin fell on his butt.
Aria was shaking, grinning like a lunatic.
"...It worked."
Fenric stared at the smoking ruin of his training hall, then at them.
"Marginally impressive," he said, which was basically a love sonnet coming from him.
Laxin burst into tears. "We're... ALIVE..."
"Barely," Fenric said, already turning away. "Tomorrow: endurance testing."
"Endurance?" Aria echoed.
"Yes," Fenric said. "We will see if your creation can survive twelve continuous hours of combat."
Laxin let out a soft, resigned squeak like a sad balloon losing air.
"...We're going to die."
Aria's grin just widened, wild and bright.
"Then let's make it historic."
Vex raised its blade in salute, eye-flames flaring—
—and promptly fell over sideways.
Vex hit the stone floor with a bone-rattling clonk, like a chandelier made of regrets. Its limbs twitched once, then went completely slack—eye flames sputtering out with the sad little sound of a candle giving up on life.
Laxin shrieked like someone had stepped on his soul.
"VEX! Nooo—don't you dare emotionally traumatize me after impressing me!!"
Aria crouched, pressing her hand to its ribcage, then frowned.
"...He's not dead."
"Not dead?! It's lying like a tragic novel cover!" Laxin wailed.
"It's... recharging," Aria said slowly. She could feel faint embers of mana pulsing through Vex's runes, like tired little heartbeats.
"Drained its entire core."
Fenric didn't even look back from the ruined wall he was inspecting like a disappointed architect.
"Correct. You overextended its channels. If you attempt another overload without reinforcement, it will implode."
"Implode?!" Laxin squeaked. "Like... 'poof' implode or 'tactical funeral' implode?!"
"Yes," Fenric said. Which somehow covered both options.
They spent the rest of the day dragging Vex's lifeless-but-sassy-looking body back to their workshop, its limbs flopping like it was auditioning to be laundry. Aria reinforced its mana runes, carefully weaving new channels along its arms and chest like glowing stitchwork. Laxin brought snacks, emotional support, and exactly zero useful skills.
Occasionally he whispered, "Please don't die, you smug skeleton" while feeding Vex's still-closed jaw tiny crumbs of mana crystal. They just bounced off its teeth.
By nightfall, its flames flickered back to life.
"...Status?" Aria asked, wary.
Vex's jaw clicked open... then closed. It raised one finger, pointed to the ceiling, and wrote in glowing runes:
"NAP = GOOD. WORLD = BAD."
Laxin clutched his chest. "It's developing priorities!"
Fenric, from the corner, didn't even glance up from his paperwork.
"Side effect of complex mana matrices. Ignore it."
Vex wrote:
"RUDE."
The next morning, the "endurance trial" began.
Fenric simply dropped them into the arena again, now twice as large and crawling with a rotating assortment of skeleton mages, axe-wielders, spear-duelists, and one horrifying creature that looked like three skeletons pretending to be a horse.
Vex stared at the horde, eye-flames narrowing like a burned-out office worker seeing their inbox.
Laxin adjusted his robes with the grim seriousness of a man who knew he was about to be emotionally suplexed.
"Twelve hours. Easy. We can survive that. Probably."
"Statistically not," Fenric said.
Then he flicked a rune.
The wave began.
The first hour went well.
Vex danced through the enemy ranks, blade sweeping like calligraphy made of doom, wand firing precise bursts that decapitated anything bold enough to have a head.
Aria and Laxin supported from the rear, repairing cracks in its runes between waves.
By hour three, Vex was humming a strange little jingle with every swing, like a battle-mad ice cream truck.
Aria ignored it.
Laxin started quietly harmonizing.
By hour five, it had begun... trash talking.
Every rune slash left glowing graffiti:
"TOO SLOW."
"NICE TRY, BONES."
"I AM BETTER LEGS."
Laxin cackled like a dying kettle.
"IT'S GETTING AN EGO!"
"It's getting brain rot," Aria muttered, even as she was trying not to laugh.
By hour seven, it started fighting with flair.
Vex vaulted off enemies, pirouetted midair, and landed bowing like a skeletal ballerina of destruction.
One mage lobbed a fireball at it—
Vex casually headbutted it back like a soccer champion.
The mage exploded.
Laxin openly applauded.
Fenric did not.
By hour nine... things were getting weird.
Vex had begun naming its kills.
"Goodbye, Carl," it wrote as it bisected a shield-bearer.
"Farewell, Susan," as it dropkicked a spear-user into a pillar.
"Who are Susan and Carl?!" Aria demanded.
"Victims," Fenric replied, sipping tea from nowhere.
By hour eleven, Vex's flames were flickering erratically. Its motions were wild, almost drunken—yet somehow still lethally precise. It was giggling. Giggling.
Aria's heart was in her throat.
Laxin had accepted the heat death of the universe and was just lying on the floor, throwing it mana like peanuts.
And then... the final hour struck.
The arena disgorged a colossal undead juggernaut—ten feet tall, plated in golden bone, wielding a tower shield the size of a carriage. It roared like an avalanche gargling thunder.
Vex raised its blade.
Then, with deliberate slowness, wrote in the air:
"BOSS FIGHT. TIME TO BE COOL."
And charged.
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Show menu NOVEL BIN5Novel Extra Survival Guide to Overpowering Hero and Villain Chapter 91: Grimoire IIIEXTRA SURVIVAL GUIDE TO OVERPOWERING HERO AND VILLAINC91: Grimoire III
Chapter 91: Grimoire III
The juggernaut's roar hit like a shockwave, rattling the stone platforms and sending loose rubble skittering like terrified interns. It slammed its shield down—BOOM—and the shock cracked the floor into spiderweb fissures.
Vex didn't slow.
It accelerated.
Its runes blazed white-hot, flaring off its body like the world's most hostile rave. Each step left scorch-marks shaped suspiciously like exclamation points. Aria's heart was galloping somewhere north of sanity.
"Vex, no—strategy first!" she shouted.
"STRATEGY IS YES," Vex scrawled midair as it vaulted off a fallen pillar.
The juggernaut swung its titanic shield like a battering ram made of ancient bad decisions.
Vex didn't dodge.
Vex parried.
The shield hit like a collapsing cathedral—and stopped dead. The sound was like the concept of thunder being personally offended. Runes shrieked across Vex's arms as the impact wave shredded the arena floor in a circle.
Laxin screamed like a backup vocalist in a horror opera.
"IT'S HOLDING IT—IT'S HOLDING IT?!"
Vex's flames guttered—then reignited in a surge.
Its wand snapped up.
A circle the size of a house roared into existence behind it, spinning with layered runes stacked like skyscrapers of doom.
Aria blinked sweat from her eyes. "That's... impossible. That's a multi-tier circle—!"
"IT'S DOING A MULTI-TIER?! WE'RE ALL GONNA BURN BEAUTIFULLY!" Laxin squealed, both horrified and weirdly proud.
The juggernaut shoved.
Vex yielded—then redirected, sliding sideways in a blur, blade cutting a glowing sigil across the golden bone plating.
A crack appeared.
Vex saw it.
Vex decided it was personal.
It launched skyward in a spiral of violet force, wand drawing sigils so fast they blurred like furious constellations. The air screamed from the pressure. Runes locked together into an execution lattice.
"Final Gambit Protocol," Fenric murmured from the shadows, watching with unnerving calm. "Ill-advised."
"FINAL WHAT?!" Laxin shrieked.
"Do not interrupt," Fenric said mildly. "It is attempting to weaponize its own collapse."
Vex dove.
Its blade hit the crack.
Every rune detonated at once.
Color vanished. Sound folded inside out. For one apocalyptic heartbeat, there was nothing in the arena but raw annihilation—like someone had erased reality with excessive enthusiasm.
Then the light cleared.
The juggernaut was gone.
So was half the arena.
A smoking crater yawned where they'd stood. Bits of molten goldbone dripped from the ceiling. The air tasted like static and victory-flavored despair.
Vex stood at the epicenter.
Or rather—
Vex knelt.
One knee down, blade planted, runes fading to soft embers. Its eye-flames guttered, but burned... proud.
Silence.
Then Laxin howled, throwing his arms to the heavens like a prophet of chaos.
"WE HAVE CREATED—AN ICON."
Aria was laughing and crying simultaneously, like someone who had just survived both a miracle and a tax audit.
"It—it did it—oh gods, it actually did it—"
Fenric finally stepped forward. His expression didn't shift, but the air tightened, like reality was holding its breath to see what he'd say.
"...Adequate," Fenric said.
Laxin collapsed face-first with a noise like emotional drywall caving in.
"HE SAID THE A-WORD AGAIN—"
Fenric glanced at Vex, who wobbled like a champion made of exhaustion.
"However," Fenric added, tone sliding colder than a budget meeting at dawn, "your construct is now operating at four percent structural integrity. Any further combat will result in catastrophic self-detonation."
Vex slowly turned its head toward him.
Wrote in glowing shaky runes:
"WORTH IT."
Then collapsed backward into a perfect skeleton-shaped crater with a dainty clonk.
Aria knelt beside it, still grinning like someone who had just seen the gods blink first.
"...He'll recover," she whispered.
Fenric gave the faintest nod, like an avalanche granting mercy.
"See that he does," he said. "Tomorrow: tactical cognition drills."
Laxin's soul audibly deflated.
"Tactical... cognition...? You want it to think now?!"
"Yes," Fenric said. "If it can destroy, it must also choose."
Aria's grin sharpened. "Then we'll make it brilliant."
Vex, facedown in rubble, raised one finger.
Glowing rune:
"BRAIN = OPTIONAL."
Laxin clutched his head.
"Oh no. It's becoming self-aware."
Fenric was already leaving, voice like steel wrapped in frost.
"Then teach it to be aware strategically."
And the door slammed shut behind him like the closing statement of destiny.
The next day dawned like a reluctant intern—late, grey, and deeply under-caffeinated.
Inside the training hall, Vex stood in the center of the rune circle, glowing faintly like a suspiciously smug bonfire. It had been fully reconstituted overnight; Aria had spent the evening muttering incantations while Laxin dramatically stress-ate an entire bag of void crisps.
Now, Vex's flames burned steady. Calm. Focused.
Which was unsettling in its own right.
Fenric arrived without fanfare, as if the concept of "making an entrance" were beneath him. He stopped at the edge of the circle, eyes cutting like surgical winter.
"Today," he said, "you will think."
Vex wrote:
"ALREADY THINKING ABOUT EXPLOSIONS."
"No," Fenric said flatly. "Strategy."
Laxin waved a hand vaguely. "You know, like... using logic instead of detonations as your primary language."
Vex stared at him.
Then slowly wrote:
"EXCUSE ME WHAT IS 'NOT DETONATIONS'"
Fenric raised a single finger, and the air itself hushed like reality didn't dare interrupt.
"Begin simple. Prediction models."
Aria perked up, bouncing on her heels. "Oh! Like—anticipating enemy moves, right?"
"Yes," Fenric said. "If it can predict, it can plan. If it can plan, it can win without collateral implosion."
"Or," Laxin muttered, "it can implode on purpose but strategically."
Fenric ignored him with the precision of a practiced executive.
He flicked his wrist—
The floor glyphs rearranged with the brisk efficiency of an overachieving filing clerk.
Four skeletal constructs rose from the runes: slim, nimble, each holding blunted bone sabers. Their eyes glimmered like annoyed candle flames.
"Scenario Alpha," Fenric said. "Objective: remain intact for five minutes."
Vex flared.
"OBJECTIVE ACCEPTED. SURVIVAL INITIATED."
The four skeletons charged as one, blades flashing.
Vex... froze.
Not in fear.
In processing.
Its runes brightened, cycling like furious equations. Aria bit her lip, heart hammering.
Then Vex moved.
Not with its usual explosive drama. No—this was sharp. Measured.
It let the first blade pass, ducking beneath like a burning shadow. A counterstrike flickered out—just enough to shove the attacker back, not destroy.
"Controlled force," Fenric murmured, almost approving. "It learns."
The second attacker came from behind.
Vex didn't even look—its wand lashed back mid-spin, parrying blind, deflecting the strike into the third attacker. They tangled, clattered, cursed in rattling bone-speak.
The fourth closed in.
Vex simply stepped aside.
Like it had known exactly where that blade would land two seconds ago.
Aria whispered, awestruck, "It's predicting their motion paths."
"Or it's become psychic," Laxin said, "which is so much worse."
For four minutes, the hall became a ballet of bone and fire. Vex weaved, deflected, manipulated space like it was playing chess at swordpoint. Sparks flew. Bones clashed. Not one blow landed.
Fenric watched, unreadable.
Then, at exactly the five-minute mark, Vex vaulted back, landed in a crouch, and wrote in the air:
"MISSION: NOT-EXPLODE = SUCCESSFUL."
Silence.
Aria squealed like a proud lab parent. "It did it!! It thought!!"
Laxin threw his hands up. "I hate that I'm impressed!!"
Fenric stepped forward, boots whispering against stone. He regarded Vex, silver gaze cold and bright.
"...Acceptable," he said.
Aria gasped. "The A-word again—!"
Vex wrote:
"NEED NEW WORD. ACCEPTABLE IS BORING."
Fenric arched a single eyebrow. "Surprise me."
Vex paused.
Then flared.
And slowly scrawled:
"STRATEGICALLY MAGNIFICENT."
Laxin slapped his forehead. "Oh no. It learned branding."
Fenric just turned on his heel, cloak slicing the air like an executive memo.
"Next," he said, "tactical deception drills."
Vex's runes pulsed like a heartbeat made of fireworks.
"YES. I WILL LIE GLORIOUSLY."
Aria clapped like she'd just been handed a promotion.
"This is going to be fun."
Laxin whispered, "This is how civilizations end," as the training glyphs began to glow.
The glyphs flared to life like someone had just slapped the training hall awake with an espresso the size of a moon.
Fenric stood at the edge of the arena, hands folded behind his back like an auditor about to emotionally ruin someone's fiscal year.
"Deception," he said, voice crisp as freshly sharpened ice.
"Victory through manipulation. Misdirection. Exploiting assumptions. Do this correctly—your opponent defeats themselves."
Laxin raised a hesitant finger. "Do this incorrectly—?"
"You explode," Fenric said without looking at him.
Laxin lowered his finger. "Crystal clear."
Aria bounced on her heels, practically glowing. "Okay, Vex! Time to trick the enemy! Think sneaky thoughts!"
Vex's flames flickered like a brain cell waking up reluctantly.
Then it wrote:
"DEFINING SNEAKY... COMPLETE. READY TO BE EVIL."
Fenric snapped his fingers.
The arena reshaped itself with bureaucratic efficiency—stone partitions rising like cubicle walls, shadowed corridors weaving in a tight maze. Four skeletal sentries materialized within, each armed with spears and glowing with the emotional range of a very angry filing cabinet.
"Objective," Fenric said, "is not destruction. It is infiltration. Reach the central glyph without being detected."
Aria grinned. "Like hide-and-seek, but with mortal peril!"
"Like a performance review," Laxin muttered darkly.
Vex faded into the maze.
For three long seconds, nothing happened.
Then—
BOOM.
A fireball detonated somewhere deep in the maze, rattling the partitions.
Laxin shrieked. "Subtlety is dead!"
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