Sometimes, the boundaries between different schools of magic blur.

Take mirrors, for example; are they created by hydromancy or photomancy? Could be either.

Another example is the connection between biomancy and necromancy, which are traditionally very similar. The former influences the body and the latter the soul, but these two are densely interconnected. Many applications of necromancy can be achieved through biomancy and vice versa.

Of course, each wizard wields their own flavor of magic, and even if two schools can achieve the same effect, one is usually more well-suited than the other. For example, some biomancers can raise skeletons, but they are more constructs than thinking creatures.

In any case, these connections tell a story. The lines between schools are clearly set in stone by nature itself, as evidenced by the different kinds of nature spirits, but the underlying laws are still hidden from us.

- An excerpt from ‘Introduction to Necromancy’ by Akolateronim

“Okay, maybe not friends, but let’s talk it out!” shouted Jerry as he rushed back, but the skeletons seemed determined. They fanned out to surround him, but at the last moment, a broad back covered Jerry’s retreat.

It was Headless. Boboar and Foxy were arrayed beside him, while Boney had also drawn his sword and taken up position in front ofJerry. Their eyes burned with crimson flames and their jaws were clenched. They had been itching to fight; now that they finally stepped forth, nobody would harm their Master.

Headless let out a low growl as he faced off against one of the skeletons, holding his glaive at the ready. The skeletons refused to give ground.

With a series of ominous clacking sounds, the two teams of undead collided into a mess of bones—and a bit of flesh, as Headless was a zombie.

Blades met bones, and Headless’s glaive reaped skeletons like haystalks, but they got back up. Jerry’s undead had lived for a long time, and they had gradually grown smarter and more experienced. They were much stronger than these newborns.

Boboar oinked as he plowed through the group, enduring sword slashes to gore the skeletons. Unfortunately, they didn’t have much to be gored, but Boboar achieved his aim nonetheless as he smashed one skeleton against the wall, destroying it—and getting a headache.

Another skeleton had been pierced by one of Boboar’s tusks and tossed into the air, where Headless’s glaive cut it in half and smashed it hard into the ground.

Foxy was deftly dodging another skeleton’s strikes and delivering her own, but her weapons—her claws and jaws—had limited effectiveness against bare bones. She could only hold one skeleton at bay.

With Boboar still reeling from headbutting the wall, Headless was left to fend off three enemies by himself, and he’d also spent some time smashing the mid-air skeleton.

These enemies were not the smartest, but they knew how to use a blade. They surrounded Headless and fell on him like a small horde, assaulting him from all sides. The glaive was a weapon meant to fight multiple enemies, and Headless was skilled with it, but three enemies were still more than he could handle.

He spun his glaive once, using its body to meet two swords mid-air and push them back, then smashed its butt into the ribs of the skeleton behind him. He angled his shoulder to deflect a strike, letting the enemy take some flesh, and spun with force to decapitate another.

He succeeded; but to do so, he neglected his defense for a moment. A sword angled through his ribs to pierce his gut and another almost knocked the glaive out of his hand.

The first skeleton ripped its sword out of Headless’s body and prepared for another strike. A water jet hit its skull at the last moment, sending it tumbling sideways.

“Good job, Headless!” yelled Laura, her eyes shining a deep blue. Two water orbs floated beside her, each shooting out water jet after water jet and throwing the skeletons off-balance. At the same time, water blobs flew around the enemies, dampening the coordination of their limbs.

Laura had taken some time to act, but when she did, her assistance was priceless. After all, she was a hydromancer—even against non-breathing enemies, she had her ways.

The two remaining skeletons were completely disorganized, allowing Headless to recover. That was all he needed. A growl came as he smashed his glaive into a skeleton’s head, ending its short life, and Boboar returned right then to barrel into the final skeleton and break it apart.

The skeletons were gone.

“We did it!” They all cheered together, forgetting about Headless’s gaping wound—only Jerry kept his bearings and rushed to heal the brave undead, pouring magic into their bond until Headless’s body reformed and the wound closed.

It was a neat little trick.

Everyone cheered again, happy to finally be safe. The skeletons didn’t reform, and the monstrosity’s clashes against the superhuman duo were getting more intense by the minute, not allowing it any time to toss more skeletons their way.

However, even if they were temporarily safe, the main problem remained. Axehand and Horace couldn’t overpower the monstrosity, and they couldn’t exhaust it either as it had the power of the fake Prism.

If things continued like this, Axehand or Horace would eventually make a mistake and everyone would die. Someone had to do something.

That someone set his jaw, and his crimson flames flared so intensely they spilled outside his eyes. The enemy had challenged him, matched him, then ignored him to attack his Master. He had to win. He would go all-out.

The thought made his bones shiver in anticipation.

Axehand met a fist head-on, then deflected the next blow. He slipped under a strike and stepped forward, diving into the monstrosity’s guard and making himself vulnerable to the tail attack—it wasn’t too long, so it couldn’t reach him before.

The tail was faster and stronger than its fists. The monstrosity growled as it spun, its tail slashing through the air like a whip…but Axehand was no longer there!

He was hanging from the monstrosity’s torso!

The beast howled, suddenly feeling threatened. It smashed fist after fist into itself, forcing Axehand to receive the blows head-on, but he was relentless. His twin axes had lodged into its bone armor, and with a series of grunts, he ripped off layer after layer of bone.

They could reform, of course, but Axehand could use the time before they did to dig deeper.

The monstrosity was incensed. Axehand was dismembering it!

Its fists rained down harder than before as it ignored all damage to itself. Axehand’s body was filled with cracks, but he was already past a few layers of armor, and the punches only drove him deeper. Moreover, they weakened the nearby bones, making them easier to pry off.

The monstrosity was strong but stupid. Right now, Axehand was—accidentally—using that to his advantage.

Horace’s sharp eyes twinkled. The fake Prism was in the monstrosity’s chest, but he couldn’t shoot it directly as its torso was protected by thick layers of bone armor that his arrows could never penetrate.

However, if Axehand could tear its chest open…

Horace grinned.

Unfortunately, the monstrosity’s stupidity had a limit. Realizing that its punches didn’t work, it opened its hand and grabbed Axehand, intending to pull him away. He resisted; with herculean strength, he dug his axe hands so deep into the bone armor they reached the dust tornado behind it.

The monstrosity still dragged him out, tearing its own body apart in the process with a ripping, cracking sound like an arm breaking. It raised Axehand high and smashed him into the ground with incredible force, spreading a web of cracks on the stone floor.

Its body now sported a massive hole that was quickly getting filled in. In a few moments, the damage would be repaired.

But a few moments were enough.

In that short window of time, Horace’s legs were steady, and his eyes were sharp. He wouldn’t get another opportunity like this. In that short window of time, he unleashed every single remaining arrow—half a quiver—into the monstrosity.

The arrows flew true into the hole, piercing into its chest. The dust tornado spun fiercely. All arrows were pulled off course; not by much, but enough to miss their original target.

However, Horace hadn’t just aimed for the monstrosity’s heart—the fake Prism. He’d used seven arrows to create a net, one aiming for the heart and the other six forming a circle around it. No matter how the tornado pulled, one of them was bound to hit the heart.

And it did—only to ricochet and fly off. After all, even Axehand’s direct strike hadn’t managed to break the fake Prism.

However, the strike wasn’t useless. The heart shook in place as the monstrosity lost control of itself, including its regenerative properties. It teetered on the brink of collapse for a couple of moments, but Horace had run out of arrows.

Eventually, the monstrosity recovered.

The heart soon stabilized again, and the monstrosity’s body became steady. A torrent of bones flew from other parts of its body to fill in the hole, and soon, its chest was as good as new. Axehand’s and Horace’s all-out efforts had been in vain.

The monstrosity released a triumphant roar. The enemies had failed, and it would now annihilate them, starting from the most annoying one. Its tail flashed in the air as the razor-like appendage reflected the torchlight, and it pierced into the dust-filled crater of Axehand’s body like a spear.

Nobody could stop it. The tail struck hard and fast, and it penetrated two meters deep as the stone cracked and split.

Everything fell into silence. The dust cleared. And when it did, Axehand’s body was not there.

The monstrosity was startled. It looked around quickly but didn’t find him.

Horace was smirking, having already sheathed his bow. The monstrosity felt something wrong—it even had butterflies in its stomach, but such feelings should be impossible for it. What, then, was it feeling?

Its crimson flames turned white. Something was inside it.

It was Axehand.

At the moment when the monstrosity had lost control, Axehand had launched himself off the ground and into the hole in its chest. The hole had sealed itself, trapping him inside. But he wasn’t trapped—the fake Prism was.

Because now, nothing stood between the two except for a tornado made of dust—a tornado that Axehand’s durable body could easily resist.

The monstrosity screeched in panic. Its claws dug into its own body as it struggled to dismember itself again, but its functions were limited, and it had to do so by hand. Unfortunately, there was no time.

As the monstrosity ripped bone after bone from itself, Axehand’s crimson gaze was honed on the fake Prism. The last time he’d struck it, he’d failed. It wouldn’t happen again.

He took his time. He raised an axe high into the air, and poured all of his overcharged strength into the strike. The dust tornado could not stop him, and there was nowhere for the fake Prism to run—it was already entombed into its own creation.

Axehand grunted; a single axe flashed down and crashed into the fake Prism at full force. The impact was titanic. Axehand’s all-out attack had previously cleaved off an entire whale tail, but the crystal had almost managed to resist.

Almost.

With a final, intense grunt, Axehand cut straight through the fake Prism. The monstrosity froze. The bones stopped flying.

And, with the sound of breaking glass, the entire fake Prism imploded. The monstrosity collapsed into a heap of bones, and Axehand stood up through it.

His body and face were filled with cracks, but he was victorious. He and Horace glanced at each other and nodded.

Headless yelled in triumph.

They had won.