The Extra's Rise-Chapter 103: Skull III

"Now," Alastor said, his voice calm but filled with the weight of a professor on the verge of assigning a lifetime's worth of homework, "to truly master necromancy, Mythos Academy will be your best bet. Learning how to create an Arch Lich isn't something you can just wing. This isn't a weekend project. You're going to need to learn a lot of theory, apply that theory meticulously, and then ensure everything is tied together seamlessly. One mistake, and you'll have an oversized skeleton throwing tantrums instead of terror."

I nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. The process sounded daunting. Arch Liches weren't like simple skeletons or zombies you could purchase from a black-market necromancer's outlet. No, this required finesse. Magical programming, as he explained earlier—connecting aspects like an artist painting on a canvas while also being a code-writer debugging an entire system.

"And," Alastor continued, his voice growing sharper, "the hardest part, by far, will be the Life Source. That's no walk in the park. But," he held up a finger, his eyes gleaming, "you've got a powerful advantage in Mythos Academy. Your necromancy professor is not just talented—he's an elite Ascendant-ranker. If anyone in this world has crafted a Lich or knows how to guide someone to do it, it's him."

"I imagine I'll need to practice on something simpler before aiming for an Arch Lich," I said, already piecing together the logical steps.

"Exactly." Alastor grinned, clearly pleased with my response. "Start with a Lich. It's not just training—it's essential. The process for creating a Lich and an Arch Lich is similar, but the scale is entirely different. Build your foundation with a Lich, and as you grow stronger, that Lich can evolve into an Arch Lich over time. It'll grow with you, provided you lay the groundwork correctly."

I nodded again. That made sense. Practice made perfect, and when dealing with undead constructs that had the potential to obliterate you if handled poorly, "perfect" seemed like the minimum standard.

"As for the Life Source," Alastor added, his voice dropping slightly, "you'll need the heart of a beast. Not just any beast, mind you—something powerful, an eight-star beast at the very least. It must still be beating when you bind it. But don't worry about that just yet. Materials can be acquired as needed. Focus on understanding the theory first, Arthur. Without that, all the rare components in the world won't save you from catastrophic failure."

The idea of harvesting a still-beating heart from a high-level beast wasn't exactly thrilling, but his point was clear. There was no use rushing into materials without mastering the art itself. I'd seen enough disasters, fictional and real, to know what happened when you jumped to step ten without mastering step one.

"And," he continued, a warm smile breaking through his usually composed face, "the reason I'm doing all this for you isn't just to throw you into the deep end. I believe in you, Arthur. You have what it takes to see this through."

I felt a knot tighten in my chest at his words. There wasn't much space for belief in my world—be it the one I left or this one. Hearing it from someone as influential as Alastor felt strange. Motivating, yes, but strange.

"Oh, and before I forget." He reached into a hidden pocket, pulling out a small black ring adorned with an intricately carved eagle's head. He handed it to me, the cold metal pressing against my palm. "This is for you. It's an Ancient-grade artifact."

I blinked, staring at it. "What does it do?"

Alastor smirked. "It's your safety net. This artifact will 'translate' your Lich for you. Essentially, it allows you to control the Lich without it overpowering you. Think of it as a limiter—one that adjusts as you grow stronger, gradually removing the restrictions and letting the Lich use more of its power in sync with your own development."

"That... sounds incredible," I admitted, still marveling at the artifact.

"It is." Alastor's tone shifted, becoming almost fatherly. "And it's a testament to how much I'm investing in you. Don't squander it, Arthur. The path of necromancy is not an easy one, and you'll need every edge you can get."

I nodded solemnly, slipping the ring onto my finger. The metal felt alive against my skin, faintly warm, as though responding to my mana. It wasn't just a gift; it was a responsibility.

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"Now," Alastor said, clapping his hands, the heavy atmosphere breaking, "let's head back to breakfast before Rachel or Aria decide to interrogate us about where we've been."

When we entered the dining room, the smell of fluffy pancakes, warm syrup, and freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Rachel and Aria were already seated, the former smiling brightly while the latter waved at me mid-bite.

"Where'd you two disappear to?" Rachel asked, her golden hair shimmering in the morning light as she tilted her head curiously.

"Oh, nowhere special," Alastor said smoothly, his tone so casual it bordered on theatrical. "Just discussing some family matters. Right, Arthur?"

"Right," I said quickly, grabbing a plate and sliding into my seat. Aria squinted at me suspiciously, but Rachel didn't press further.

Rachel giggled softly, sipping her tea. "Well, as long as it's nothing nefarious."

"Of course not," Alastor said, pouring himself a cup of coffee with the flourish of someone far too practiced at avoiding direct answers. "Now, let's enjoy breakfast before the day gets too chaotic."

I couldn't help but glance at the black ring on my finger, its weight reminding me of the task ahead. For now, though, I focused on the pancakes. Rachel and Aria were watching me too closely for my liking, but at least breakfast served as a good distraction.

Aria was busy piling an unnecessary amount of whipped cream onto her waffles, while Rachel was eating an orange, the soft citrus scent blending with the rich aroma of syrup and coffee.

"Do you always eat like this?" Aria asked, waving her fork dramatically at the spread of food, as though offended by its sheer excess. "This could feed an entire neighborhood back in Avalon."

Rachel chuckled, her golden hair catching the sunlight streaming in through the wide windows. "We only do this for special occasions. Though I suppose Father likes to... go a bit overboard." She popped a slice of orange into her mouth and added with a sly smile, "Not that anyone here seems to be complaining."

"True," Aria admitted, her voice muffled by the enormous bite of waffle she was chewing.

Alastor had already excused himself, leaving the three of us to enjoy the relaxed morning. It was rare to have moments like this—just quiet, simple companionship. The kind where you could almost forget about looming tournaments, political pressures, and the mountain of responsibilities waiting back at Mythos Academy.

Rachel turned her attention to me, her blue eyes warm. "Arthur, do you have any plans for the rest of the winter break?"

I shook my head as I took a sip of coffee. "Nothing specific. Aria and I will probably head back to Avalon and spend some time with our parents. Then it'll just be preparation for the next semester."

Rachel tilted her head thoughtfully, her golden hair falling over her shoulder. "You're always so focused. You should take a little time for yourself, you know."

"That sounds like a trap," I replied with a faint smile. "Relaxation doesn't seem to exist in the Creighton vocabulary."

Her laughter was soft and melodious, like the chime of delicate glass. "Fair enough."

The conversation meandered after that, touching on everything from Aria's upcoming academy applications to Rachel's plans for the new semester. She mentioned wanting to spend more time refining her mana techniques, and her voice carried a quiet determination that only deepened my respect for her.

After breakfast, the three of us wandered through the Creighton estate gardens. It was a crisp, cool morning, and the neatly trimmed hedges and glowing luminescent flora made it feel like we were walking through a scene from a dream. Aria dashed ahead, marveling at the intricate designs of the estate's floating lanterns, while Rachel and I followed at a slower pace.

"This has been nice," Rachel said, her tone softer now, almost wistful. "Having you here. It feels... different, but in a good way."

I glanced at her, surprised by the sudden shift in her demeanor. "Different how?"

She hesitated, her gaze lingering on the path ahead. "I don't know. Like everything feels a little lighter. Even with everything that's going on, I feel like I can breathe a bit easier when you're around."

Her words caught me off guard, leaving me unsure how to respond. Before I could say anything, she flashed me a quick smile and darted ahead to join Aria, leaving me to puzzle over her words in silence.

The time to leave came too quickly. Aria and I packed our bags and prepared for our journey back to Avalon. Rachel walked us to the estate's grand entrance, her hands clasped in front of her, her expression a mixture of warmth and something harder to define.

"Thank you for hosting us," I said formally, bowing slightly. "And thank Alastor for me as well. This has been... more than generous."

Rachel shook her head, stepping closer. "You don't need to thank me. I'm glad you came."

Aria was already stepping into the car, leaving just Rachel and me standing on the grand stone steps. She hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me in a hug.

It wasn't a quick hug. It lingered, and in the stillness of it, I felt the weight of her emotions. She didn't say anything at first, just held me tightly, as though she didn't want me to leave.

"Arthur," she finally murmured, her voice so soft it was almost lost in the cool morning air. "Don't give up. No matter how hard it gets, don't give up. Promise me that."

I swallowed hard, her words hitting deeper than I expected. "I promise."

She pulled back, her hands lingering on my arms for a moment before she let go completely. Her smile was small, but genuine. "Safe travels."

I nodded, turning to join Aria in the car. As we pulled away from the Creighton estate, I glanced back to see Rachel standing there, her golden hair catching the sunlight, watching us until we disappeared down the road.

For the first time in a long time, I felt... grounded. Like I was leaving with something more than I had when I arrived. It wasn't just the skull or the promise of what lay ahead—it was the quiet reassurance that, in a world of chaos and uncertainty, I wasn't entirely alone.