The air in the Grand Ritual Hall of the Blackwood Necromancy Academy tasted like copper and old graveyard dirt. Eron Valther wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, his fingers trembling as he clutched a jagged piece of soul-chalk. Around him, the other students had already successfully raised skeletal warriors or ghoul-hounds. He was the only one left standing in a circle of inert salt and fading hope."Five minutes, Valther," Instructor Vane called out from the high podium, his voice dripping with bored disdain. "Or should I just save us both the trouble and sign your expulsion papers now? You’re a disgrace to the Valther name. Your ancestors are probably spinning in their graves—not that you’d be able to summon them to find out.""Just give me a second, okay? The mana flow in this room is trash," Eron bit back, his voice cracking. He looked down at his ritual circle. It was messy, but it was all he had. "Come on, come on... just one. I just need one corpse. Any corpse.""Maybe try

“So, are you going to keep pinning me against the wall, or are we going to kiss? Because the tension is killing me, and I’m already dead,” Della said, her voice dripping with a sugary, lethal sweetness.Saphira didn’t look at her. Her focus remained entirely on Eron, her knuckles white as she held him by the collar. “I am an officer of the Exorcist Bureau. I don’t ‘team up’ with abominations, Valther. I eliminate them.”“Then do it,” Eron squeaked, his feet dangling inches off the floor. “Eliminate us. But then you’ll never know why your brother’s soul is currently haunting a VIP lounge in the Underworld instead of resting in the Heavens. Go ahead. Be a professional. Kill the only person who can actually pull him back.”Saphira’s eyes flickered. For a second, the cold, sterile light of her erasure magic flared, and Eron felt the hair on his arms stand up. Then, with a grunt of frustration, she slammed him back onto his feet.“Five minutes,” Saphira hissed, pacing the cramped dorm room

The heavy stone lid of the sarcophagus didn't just slide; it was wrenched open by the skeletal hands of Korvin Ashar, letting in a rush of frigid, ash-choked air.“Alright, lovebirds, break it up!” Korvin roared, his voice echoing like a landslide. “I’ve spent the last ten minutes stacking Warden corpses like cordwood while you two were in there playing ‘hide the candle.’ Get out! This crypt smells like repressed hormones and failure!”Eron scrambled out first, his face a shade of crimson that rivaled the dying embers of the battle. He offered a hand to Saphira, who took it with a grip that was entirely too tight. As she stepped out, her silver armor clattered, and she pointedly avoided looking at him. Her breathing was still shallow, her lips parted and swollen from the heat of their proximity.“That... that was for survival,” Saphira hissed, dusting off her greaves. “Thermal regulation. Nothing more.”“Right,” Eron stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Totally. Survival. I’ve ne

The stone under Eron’s feet felt like it was crumbling into a void. He stared at the carving—Died: Tomorrow—until the letters blurred into jagged, mocking lines."We aren't staying here," Saphira’s voice was a low, vibrating growl. She didn't look at him; she was already scanning the shadows of the Ossuary, her hand white-knuckled on her claymore. "Della, Ishan, Korvin. Out. Now.""But I wanted to see if the kings were buried with their jewelry!" Korvin complained, though his spectral form was already beginning to dissipate into the violet smoke of the soul-bond."Korvin, for once in your miserable afterlife, read the room," Ishan snapped, adjusting his cuffs. "Our Master is currently staring at his own expiration date. It’s hardly the time for looting. Eron, darling, don't worry about the stone. Statistically, most prophecies are just poorly written fanfiction of the universe."Della lingered the longest, her silver eyes shimmering with a rare, haunting sadness. She touched Eron’s ch