The Extra's Rise-Chapter 102: Skull II

There were many classes of necromantic summons. At the bottom of the macabre food chain, you had your standard zombies and skeletons. These were the bread and butter of any budding necromancer's repertoire—utterly mindless, shambling husks that moved only because someone, somewhere, willed them to. Like puppets made of old bones and questionable decisions. They were useful, yes, but hardly impressive.

Climb a little higher, and you'd find mage skeletons. These were your skeletons with a flair for the dramatic, throwing fireballs and ice spikes with their bony hands. Then came the skeleton knights, stoic warriors clad in spectral armor, capable of wielding aura or utilizing the circle method to cast spells. They were self-sufficient, resourceful, and occasionally a tad too melodramatic for my liking.

But above them all, towering like a malevolent shadow over this hierarchy of undead, was the lich. A lich was not just another level of summoning—it was a paradigm shift. In the ranking of mana beasts, a lich was a seven-star minimum. And in this world, a seven-star beast wasn't just strong—it was a creature that had surpassed the Wall, the threshold separating the realm of mortal understanding from sheer, incomprehensible power.

"However, this is... different," Alastor said, his tone growing heavier as he led me further into the labyrinthine depths of the Creighton estate. His voice echoed faintly against the runed walls, carrying an air of gravity that sent a chill down my spine. "The Arch Lich sealed here was once a nine-star beast at its peak."

I blinked. Nine stars. That wasn't just surpassing the Wall—that was tearing it down, building a throne out of the rubble, and daring anyone to come close.

Alastor placed a hand on the sealed door, his mana flaring as intricate runes glowed and shifted across its surface. The ancient seals groaned as they unlocked, the air growing heavy with a faint, oppressive energy. He glanced at me, a faint smile on his face.

"What lies beyond this door, Arthur, is not a creature but a fragment—an artifact, in essence—of one of the most dangerous beings to ever exist. The skull of an Arch Lich."

My breath caught. Even the mention of an Arch Lich was enough to send chills down anyone's spine. These necromantic abominations were the stuff of legends, catastrophic entities capable of reshaping entire regions with their dark magic. But this wasn't about reviving the Arch Lich. Alastor's calm tone and steady demeanor told me that much.

"The Arch Lich this belonged to is long dead," he continued, "its life source destroyed, its skeleton scattered, and its staff lost to time. What remains is this—its skull, housing only its Mind aspect. No soul, no consciousness, just the pure intelligence and magical ingenuity that made it such a formidable creature."

The door creaked open, revealing a dark chamber. At its center was a pedestal, and on it rested the blackened, cracked skull. Even inert, it exuded an aura of immense power. I could almost feel the whispers of its lost intellect, like echoes from a long-forgotten era.

"This is for you," Alastor said, gesturing toward the skull. "Not as a weapon, not yet. This is a foundation—a beginning. With this, you have the chance to create something entirely your own."

I stepped closer, the weight of his words sinking in. "Create something... my own?"

Alastor nodded. "An Arch Lich isn't just a being. It's a construct, a combination of four key aspects: the Mind, which you now have; the Soul, which was tied to its life source but is now gone; the Body, which can be any suitable skeleton you choose; and the Staff, which binds it all together and amplifies its power. You don't need to rebuild the original Arch Lich. In fact, I'd advise against it. This is your opportunity to craft something new, something that fits your abilities and vision."

I stared at the skull, a mix of awe and trepidation swirling inside me. "So, I can choose the components? Build it from scratch?"

"Exactly," Alastor said, his voice steady. "The Mind is a gift, a starting point. It holds the intelligence, the magical framework, and the potential of an Arch Lich, but how you bring it to life is entirely up to you. The skeleton, the staff, even the essence you imbue into it—those choices are yours. You'll have to find or create components that align with the kind of Arch Lich you want to command."

"And the staff?" I asked cautiously. "How will I find something powerful enough to serve as its anchor?"

Alastor smiled faintly, as though anticipating the question. "The staff is the most crucial piece. Without it, the construct can never reach its full potential. And for that, I'll make you an offer." His eyes gleamed with a mix of challenge and encouragement. "Defeat Lucifer in the Sovereign's Tournament, and I'll give you an Ancient-grade artifact that can serve as the staff."

My eyes widened. An Ancient-grade artifact as a reward? That was an incredible offer, one that most people would never dream of receiving in their entire lives. Artifacts of that caliber were rare beyond belief, coveted by the strongest mages and warriors in the world.

"I won't make it easy for you," Alastor added, his tone firm. "You'll have to earn it. Lucifer is no ordinary opponent. But I believe you're capable of rising to the challenge."

I nodded slowly, my mind racing. The task before me was daunting, but it was also an opportunity unlike any other. "What happens if I lose?"

"Then you'll have to find another way," Alastor said simply. "But if you want to claim the title of the strongest in your generation, this is your chance to prove it. The artifact is yours if you succeed."

I looked back at the skull, the weight of the task settling over me. This wasn't just about power. It was about crafting something unique, something that could stand as a testament to my abilities and determination. And perhaps, it was about proving to myself that I was more than just a piece in someone else's story.

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"This won't be easy," I said, my voice quiet but resolute.

"No, it won't," Alastor agreed, his expression softening. "But nothing worth having ever is. Take the skull, Arthur. It's yours now. And remember, this is only the beginning. The choices you make from here will define the Arch Lich you create—and the mage you become."

I stepped forward, my hand hovering over the skull for a moment before I picked it up. It was cold to the touch, but beneath the surface, I could feel the faint hum of dormant power. As I held it, a spark of determination ignited within me.

This was my task. My responsibility. My creation.

And I wouldn't fail.