Chapter 3: An Archmage’s Wisdom

The training courtyard was still, save for the faint crackling of ambient magic lingering in the air. Tall stone walls surrounded the area, runes etched deep into their surfaces pulsing faintly with protective enchantments. It was a space meant to contain power and provide seclusion—a place where mistakes could be made and learned from without consequence.

Robert hovered a few feet off the ground, his legs dangling slightly beneath him. The ever-present shimmer of “Levitate” surrounded his body, suspending him effortlessly above the smooth marble tiles. A thin sheen of sweat coated his brow as he focused on the task before him. In front of him stood four skeletal warriors, their bony frames lined up in perfect formation.

“Advance!” Robert commanded, his voice clear and firm.

The skeletal warriors moved forward in unison; their rusted swords raised high. Their feet made no sound as they glided over the stone, an unnatural grace guiding their movements. Robert’s left hand twitched slightly, and the warriors shifted into a defensive line, shields raised.

“Good,” came a voice from behind him.

Robert glanced over his shoulder and found his uncle, Frank, standing at the edge of the courtyard. Dressed in simple, dark robes trimmed with gold runes, a luxury only awarded to archmages. Frank exuded an air of quiet authority, his gaze sharp and focused, taking in every detail of Robert’s spell work.

“But can they hold against a direct assault?” Frank asked, his lips curling into a faint smile.

Without waiting for an answer, Frank raised his hand and flicked his fingers. A gust of wind exploded from his fingertips, streaking towards the skeletal warriors with the force of a battering ram. The first two warriors staggered back, their bones rattling under the pressure. One fell apart entirely, its pieces scattering across the ground.

Robert gritted his teeth and raised his hand higher. The remaining three warriors responded immediately, their shields locking together in a reinforced line.

“Reform” [2nd Circle] Robert whispered, channeling more mana into the spell.

The scattered bones of the fallen warrior jerked back together, the pieces snapping into place as the skeleton reassembled itself behind the defensive line. It picked up its sword, the blade rattling in its bony grip, and stepped back into formation.

“Well done,” Frank murmured approvingly, lowering his hand. “Quick recovery and efficient use of mana. But there’s still too much wasted energy in your transitions.”

Robert nodded, lowering himself gently to the ground as the shimmer of “Levitate” faded. His feet touched the cold marble, but his legs trembled, barely able to hold his weight. He leaned against the handle of his staff; his breathing steady but strained.

“You’re right,” Robert said softly. “I’m using too much mana to maintain the defense while repositioning.”

“Exactly,” Frank agreed, stepping closer. He gestured to the skeletal warriors, who stood at attention, their empty eye sockets staring blankly ahead. “The trick is to separate your commands mentally, to weave them together without over layering the spell. Watch.”

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

With a fluid motion, Frank extended his hand, and a thin thread of mana shot out from his fingertips. The skeletal warriors seemed to react to his presence, shifting slightly as if acknowledging a greater authority. Frank made a subtle gesture, and the skeletons disassembled and reassembled themselves in perfect synchronization—without so much as a whisper of lost mana.

“It’s not about forcing your will on them,” Frank continued, his voice low and calm. “It’s about guiding them, letting the spell know what you want, and allowing it to fulfill that command with the least resistance.”

Robert watched, his eyes narrowing as he tried to absorb every detail of his uncle’s control. Frank made it look so effortless, as if the skeletons were merely an extension of himself.

“I want you to try something different today,” Frank said, lowering his hand. “You’ve mastered basic formations, but I want to see if you can think outside of those limits. Adapt the spell to suit the situation. Use it creatively.”

Robert glanced at the skeletal warriors, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. “You mean… modify the skeletons themselves?”

“Exactly,” Frank replied with a nod. “Summoning isn’t just about bringing forth a standard creature. The bones are a medium for your mana. You can shape them however you need. Try creating something more suited for… agility, perhaps.”

Agility. The word echoed in Robert’s mind as he stepped forward. He took a deep breath, his eyes locked on the nearest skeletal warrior. Agility required a different structure—lighter, more flexible. He held out his hand, feeling the pulse of mana beneath his skin.

“Reform,” he whispered.

The skeletal warrior’s bones began to tremble, then shift. Ribs retracted, vertebrae realigned, and the entire frame collapsed inward before stretching out into a longer, thinner form. Robert’s mana wrapped around the bones, guiding them into a new shape—a skeletal serpent, its body coiling and uncoiling fluidly on the ground.

It was far less stable than the standard humanoid skeleton, but it was fast, darting across the courtyard with surprising speed. Robert focused, directing the serpent to weave through the other skeletons, its sharpened ribs acting like fangs ready to strike.

Frank’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Impressive. Unorthodox, but effective. It’s a start.”

Robert nodded, but he didn’t relax. Maintaining the skeletal serpent was more taxing than he’d expected. He could feel the strain in his mind, the spell pushing against his control like a coiled spring ready to snap.

“I… I think I can refine it more,” Robert said, his voice strained.

“Not yet,” Frank interrupted gently. “You’ve done well enough for today. Pushing yourself further now will only lead to sloppy spell work.”

Robert exhaled slowly, releasing the spell. The serpent dissolved into dust, the bones collapsing back into a pile at his feet. He sagged slightly, the release of tension leaving him feeling drained.

“Remember, Robert,” Frank said, placing a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “Control isn’t about holding on tightly. It’s about knowing yourself.”

Robert glanced up at his uncle, his gaze steady. “I understand, Uncle. But I need to get stronger. Strong enough that I can control more than just a few skeletons.”

“And you will,” Frank assured him with a small smile. “But strength without control is dangerous. It’s like holding a blade by the edge—you’ll only end up cutting yourself.”

Before Robert could respond, the door to the courtyard creaked open, and a servant stepped in, bowing deeply.

“Pardon the interruption, my lords,” the servant said respectfully. “But the Duke has requested your presence in the study. He wishes to discuss an urgent matter… regarding the situation in Eastern Varsovia.”

Robert exchanged a glance with Frank, who raised an eyebrow.

“It seems our training session will have to wait,” Frank said with a sigh. He gave Robert’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Come on, let’s see what your father has to say.”

Robert nodded and dismissed the remaining skeletons with a flick of his wrist. The bony constructs crumbled into piles of dust, leaving the courtyard empty once more. He straightened, squaring his shoulders as he followed his uncle and the servant out of the courtyard.

They moved through the winding corridors of the mansion in silence, the soft glow of magical lamps lighting their way. The Duke’s study loomed ahead, its heavy wooden doors closed. Robert took a deep breath, steadying himself.

And with that, he stepped forward and pushed open the door.