Enya’s scream tore through the air, sharp and full of terror, the loudest sound she’d ever made, but also the shortest. Her eyes clamped shut as the world around her quaked, the ground trembling beneath her.

But she wasn’t dead. She wasn’t even hurt. As the rumbling lasted a moment too long, her eyes snapped open, only to regret it immediately as she locked onto the demon rat’s beady, slitted gaze. Its eyes seemed to pierce straight into her soul. It snarled, baring its teeth as it lunged at her for another attack.

She flinched, eyes twitching, but not quite shutting this time, as everything moved too fast to process. Her body froze, bracing for the inevitable pain, but instead—

Ka-chunk!

A resonant, ethereal echo reverberated around her. The air shimmered as a translucent barrier of light rippled outward from the doorway, covering the entire room in a protective glow. The barrier hummed in defiance, holding strong against the demon rat’s attack—just like Pell had said it would.

Enya’s breath was unsteady, as her heart pounded with alarming quickness. Her hands moved like large sandbags, trying to drag herself away from the rat as she sat on the ground. Her legs were too weak and her knees had given out, so she could only rely on her trembling arms to pull her backwards.

The demon rat stared at her the entire time, its eyes unnaturally wide and blood-shot. Although its mouth drooled and its rough and intimidating appearance stood before her—she was still safe.

Another crash came and the barrier protecting the room shimmered, but the spell still held. The rat’s snout pressed against the transparent blue mist of mana that shielded the room. Its legs tried to step forward, but all it did was further push its body up against the barrier. It growled in annoyance as it tried to bare its fangs once again.

As she looked at the rat, she noticed its left shoulder was still bleeding. Its thick brown fur was covered in a dried black and reddish blood, hardening the fur into miniature spikes. The wound left by the still embedded bronze sword was wide, stretching beyond the actual width of the blade. The wound had been gashed open a few dozen centimeters, exposing some of its bloodied and dark pale skin.

Enya’s senses came back to her in a fleeting moment, as she forced her body to stand up with all the energy she had left. She stumbled in a half crouch towards the opposite side of the door, where it had been flung open. The beast watched her move, its head turning and locking onto her. Enya ignored its gaze, and grabbed the edges of the ornate wooden door, and swung it backward as hard as she could, slamming the door shut in front of the monster’s face.

Trying to regain her composure and calm her nerves, Enya slowed her breathing once more. She flinched as the sound of muted thuds kept clashing against the barrier, sending ripples of transparent mana waves throughout the room. The attacks eventually stopped after a few attempts, leaving the room in utter silence.

Her eye’s tightened, as she felt tears starting to well up once again.

What was she supposed to do now? If the demon rat was here, then that meant… that meant that Mr. Bones was also… dead. There wasn’t even a point to make a joke about them being “undead” anymore. She had asked for his help, and got him killed in the process. She withdrew her gaze from the door and looked down to the floor in front of her, her dark purple and black dress lying sprawled in a mess along its surface.

She was alone now. Completely, and utterly alone. Pell was gone, and Mr. Bones was gone. Both of them were dead—because of her. Enya’s hands clenched and she pulled her knees up to her chest, as she lay her head atop them and sobbed. The sound of her cries and sniffles periodically being overshadowed by the loud drums of impacts against the barrier that protected the room.

This continued on for the next half-hour, until Enya finally ran out of tears to water the floor.

image [https://i.imgur.com/ZiLMGqb.png]

The sounds of relentless thrashing outside came back for a while but eventually stopped. Despite the rat’s relentless attempts that led nowhere, its footsteps would leave and come back periodically. When it left, the demon rat still remained close, as far as Enya could tell. It was constantly checking up on her, after few dozen minutes to an hour at a time, it would come back, wait, and leave.

Enya had stopped sobbing soon around its third check up. She knew it was still close by, but at least the danger wasn’t immediate. But even so, she wasn’t safe. The barrier could protect her, but how long it would last—whether it was permanent or could potentially fail—added even more worry. It came back every so often, standing close behind the door, but not attacking. It crept close, to hear inside, but didn’t attack—not until it knew its prey was there.

She reorganized all the items that she had taken out of the backpack previously. This also included some items she had brought with her to come and rescue Pell. She placed all of them neatly in the room’s corner next to a light altar.

Among her possessions were 3 health potions, 8 mana potions, 4 cans of food, a sizable water canteen along with two smaller bottles, the four-pronged medallion, and the black bracelet. There were also several rusted swords and other small daggers that Pell had brought, still lying over at the side of the room. She couldn’t count on any of these, though, as they were too large and too heavy for her to use. And the spare daggers were too short for her, and honestly, she didn’t feel comfortable using them, regardless.

She put all the items on the ground neatly next to each other, except for the black bracelet. Because it wasn’t too much trouble, she kept it on her upper arm.

Enya had tried to move the desk also, but found it impossible. Truthfully, she wanted to move it to the side of the room, so she could have clear line of sight on both the entrance, and the hidden passageway behind the bookshelf. Unfortunately, she couldn’t move the desk, as it was rooted in place and bolted to the floor.

Stolen novel; please report.

Most of the time Enya spent in the hours after organizing her inventory was for studying. The mysterious passageway with the zombie still worried her, so she pulled the chair over to the long side of the rectangular desk table, and began reading and studying there, while also keeping a keen eye on the shelf.

> Necromancy is all about manipulation of souls, and the dead. There are other branches of necromancy which dive deeper into other topics such as body manipulation and curses. Although they focus on different aspects, they all come back into the study of the dead.

Necromancy was about raising and using the dead to their fullest potential. Some necromantic magics branched off quite a bit from this philosophy, but they all revolved around manipulation of souls, or the body in some way, shape or form.

According to Sable, anything could be revived, even if the souls of the dead were absent. Every single being left a lasting imprint, and by empowering that lingering remnant, it becomes feasible to resurrect a hero from a distant past, even if they lived a thousand years ago.

Initially, she skimmed the book’s contents to see if there was any spell that related to reviving the dead and their souls. This proved to be quite difficult, as the contents of the book shifted around. Apparently, Sable wanted the book to be more about learning and discovery, instead of giving away free spells circuits. The later spells were labeled, but the effects were vague, as he wanted the reader to learn what the spell effects were from the patterns that were used. That… was extremely frustrating and stupid.

Enya read more about the summon skeleton spell that she had learned. There were a few more sections about that spell in the later pages of the book, and some extra notes that she glossed over.

> As explained in an earlier chapter, the summon skeleton spell was created by me, to pipeline the efficiency of two separate spells. This proves to be quite useful in creating an undead skeletal servant, although the creature is created and controlled by mana, instead of its soul.

>

> Although the spell itself doesn’t work against already magically revived undead, the spell itself still proves quite useful. Summoned skeletons will still respond to absolute commands, and its abilities rely on your knowledge of necromancy. The mana you use will be the catalyst that binds your control over them, and not the creature themselves.

The summon skeleton spell wasn’t about reviving souls, not directly. It was a simple manipulation—a way to control the physical structure of a skeleton by pouring your own mana into it. Nothing more.

As Enya read through the worn, yellowed pages, she found something curious: a mention of a "pseudo-consciousness" linked to the caster’s mana. It allowed the skeleton to follow commands, even act autonomously to an extent, but it didn’t mean the skeleton had a soul. It was a puppet, bound to her will through magic, perhaps retaining some faint memories from its previous life, like swinging a sword or… basic math? She wasn’t sure about that last part.

She reread the passage, frowning as her thoughts wandered. Even if she succeeded in summoning the skeleton, it wouldn’t be Pell. It would just be his body, a lifeless structure animated by her magic. No soul, no spark—just a shell of what he used to be. Her chest tightened at the realization that the spell might have been a mistake all along. Pell wouldn’t return. Only his bones would. Her eyes furrowed at the thought that her one and only hope was a misinterpretation.

Her frustration grew the more she read, skimming for anything, anything that could mention reviving a soul. But the text was dense, full of words she struggled to understand. Her fingers tightened around the pages, her eyes narrowing as she sighed in irritation.

“What the heck is… actual-lization? Dis…inter…gration? Rebound… Implosion? What is implosion? Isn’t that just explosion but… backward?” Enya muttered to herself, her voice filling the empty room with a faint echo. She found herself speaking aloud more and more, as if hearing the words would help her make sense of them. It was strange, sitting alone, talking to no one, but somehow, it helped ease her mind.

Enya, exhausted from studying all day, finally stood up with a frustrated expression. She was mentally exhausted from the events of the past day, but there were still things she could do. She carried the book with her and sat down cross-legged near the mana potions she reorganized in the corner. Her eyes were droopy, but she urged her body to keep going despite her fatigue.

Using the book by her side as a guide, she channeled magic into her hand. Even though she possessed the summon skeleton spell, she never had the opportunity to employ it effectively. She could no longer safely gather any skeleton bones without Pell assisting her, so this meant she would have to get some herself—and this meant she needed a way to defend herself.

Enya glanced down at the book with the spell circuit in front of her. It was an offensive spell—one strictly used for attacking, and wasn’t summon related. The summon skeleton spell had five distinct patterns, but the spell she was trying to learn now only had three. One of the patterns was also used in the summon skeleton spell, so she only had to learn two new patterns this time.

Mana flowed into her palm as a magic circle slightly bigger than her hand appeared in front of her. She manipulated her mana to form the outline of the new patterns. There was no need to retry the pattern she already knew, as it would just waste her mana.

Mana poured into the circuit steadily, as she carefully drew out the first new pattern. It was a zig-zagging pattern that touched the outer edge of the magic circle. Consistency defined the design, while the difficulty was in ensuring there were no irregularities.

After a few seconds of channeling, the spell circuit broke apart. Enya sighed with dimmed eyes. One zigzag she formed was a bit too steep, and that caused the spell to become unstable as she poured more mana into it. She grabbed a mana potion and took a small sip as she continued to practice. Forming a single pattern at a time cost less mana, so she could afford to fail at an early stage like this.

After a few more practice tries of the first pattern, and a few more failures, it was time to swap to the second pattern. She hadn’t fully mastered it yet, but getting used to both at the same time would probably allow her to refresh her mind so that she wouldn’t be bogged down so hard.

Enya had been up for possibly hours, maybe a day or more, just studying and reading. She was mentally exhausted. It was a good time to take a nap and rest, before resuming her diligent but exhaustive studies.

image [https://i.imgur.com/ZiLMGqb.png]

Enya rearranged some of the scattered items in the room and began to settle into a small corner, fluffing up her pillow to make the space more comfortable. Just as she was about to lie down, Pell’s words flickered in her memory. Something about her pillow… his words had been cut off, but she distinctly recalled the mention of it.

She picked up the pillow, ruffling it in her hands. At first, nothing seemed unusual, but then she heard it—a faint rustling sound from deep inside the pillow. Her heart quickened. Carefully, she unzipped the pillow and reached in, her fingers brushing past the soft fluffy fuzzies, until she found something—something papery.

Pulling it out, she realized it was a folded piece of paper that had been crumpled and tucked away in the center of the pillow. As she unfolded it, Pell’s crude handwriting made itself known, with its scraggly letters and words scrawled across the page.

The note was longer than she expected, covering the entire front page and the back. On the front, in shaky letters, was a warning. Enya had to squint to make out the words—Pell had never been one for neat penmanship apparently. After a bit of effort, she managed to decipher the warning.

Her expression softened, eyes brimming with a storm of emotions. As she read further, the jumble of feelings churned—confusion, understanding, a tinge of sadness, and even warmth. Her eyes softened, mixed with a flurry of conflicting thoughts as she read Pell's confession.