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Book Three Chapter Nine

  Chapter Nine

  “Yes! I did it!” Jenny exclaimed, her fist punching the air as the tiny skeletal bunny she had raised wobbled to its feet, its hollow eyes glowing with black mana. It shook itself off, its bony frame rattling faintly as it turned to stare at her.

  “Very good, little miss,” Vathwin rumbled, his deep voice carrying both approval and patience.

  “See, activating that skill wasn’t hard at all, Vathy,” Jenny said with a triumphant grin. “I don’t know why you said it would be.”

  “I said control would be hard to do,” Vathwin corrected, his pale finger gesturing toward the skeletal bunny. “Activating the skill is trivial. Maintaining it, however, requires focus.”

  As if to illustrate his point, the bunny collapsed into a pile of bones, the dark mana animating it dissipating like smoke. Jenny’s face scrunched into a frown. “Why did that happen?”

  “Simply put, you didn’t keep it powered with mana,” Vathwin explained. “Your [Raise Undead] skill demands a constant stream of energy. Without it, that’s what you get.” He pointed again at the lifeless heap on the ground.

  Jenny crossed her arms, scowling. “So, you’re saying it takes focus.”

  “Precisely. Focus is the cornerstone of combat within the System. Every action you take depends on it, especially with a class like yours.”

  “Necromantic Witch!” Jenny said, her voice brimming with excitement.

  “Indeed,” Vathwin said with a faint smile. “And as a Necromantic Witch, you’ll need to master the art of dividing your attention. Now, raise the bunny once more.”

  Jenny’s expression tightened as she activated her skill. Black mana swirled around the skeletal remains, pulling them together. The bunny stood again, shaking its head as it reanimated.

  “Now, command it to attack the headstone,” Vathwin instructed, pointing at a nearby grave marker.

  Jenny concentrated, willing the bunny to move. But as soon as she issued the mental command, the skeleton collapsed again, scattering bones across the ground. She groaned in frustration, balling her fists and placing them on her hips. “Why does it keep doing that?”

  “As I said,” Vathwin replied, his tone patient, “it’s about focus. When you shifted your attention to commanding the bunny, you let go of the mana stream keeping it active. You must learn to split your focus.”

  “It’s hard!” Jenny exclaimed, her voice laced with annoyance.

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  Vathwin chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “I sometimes forget how young you are, little miss. Indeed, it is not easy. Now imagine controlling an army of undead, as I control the draugr of Avalon.”

  Jenny’s jaw dropped. “How do you even manage that?”

  “A great deal of practice,” Vathwin said. “You start with one, as you are now. Then you attempt two, and so on.”

  The chirp of a bird broke the stillness as Jenny raised the bunny again, her brow furrowing in determination. She focused harder this time, trying to maintain the mana flow while directing the bunny to attack the headstone. Twice she failed, her frustration mounting, but on the third attempt, the bunny lunged at the gravestone, its tiny bones clattering as it obeyed her command.

  “Good,” Vathwin said with an approving nod. “You’ve made progress, though you still require much practice.”

  Jenny wiped at her forehead, her frustration ebbing slightly. But then she froze, her gaze locking onto a figure moving through the trees.

  A white-haired girl walked with a predatory grace, her aquamarine eyes intense as her catlike ears twitched at the faintest sounds.

  “Who is that?” Jenny asked, her voice cautious.

  Vathwin followed her gaze, his pale eyes narrowing. “Strange. I haven’t seen her before, yet I sense that is the mythical cloak Ambrose wears.”

  Jenny blinked in surprise. That’s Noelle? she thought.

  “I’ll be back later, Vathy!” Jenny called over her shoulder, already running toward the white-haired girl.

  Noelle turned as Jenny approached, her aquamarine eyes sharp and her movements fluid. Her tail flicked behind her, and she sniffed lightly as her gaze settled on the younger girl.

  “It really is you,” Jenny said, slowing her pace as she came closer.

  Noelle acknowledged her with a flick of her tail but continued walking.

  “Is Ambrose with you?” Jenny’s voice darkened slightly.

  “No,” Noelle said, her voice as poised and graceful as her movements.

  “Have you parted ways with him, then?”

  “Temporarily.”

  Noelle’s guarded tone stung more than Jenny expected. She had heard that Noelle had defended her before, even attempting to prevent her father’s death. Though they weren’t friends, Jenny didn’t want to see her as an enemy.

  But the thought of their connection almost made her laugh. She had vowed to kill Ambrose. Enemies were likely all they would ever be.

  “Where are you going?” Jenny asked.

  Noelle’s patience seemed to waver. “That isn’t your business, is it? I’m sorry, but I’m not interested in talking to an ungrateful brat.”

  Jenny staggered back, as if struck. Her body trembled with rage. “Ungrateful? What do you mean by that?”

  Noelle raised a clawed hand, pointing directly at her. “Boo fucking hoo, your father died. It was sad, no doubt. But do you have any idea what Ambrose has lost? No? Then let me enlighten you. He watched his wife and unborn daughter get shot in front of him, powerless to stop it. Do you think you understand rage? Try imagining that, try imagining the torment of seeing the person responsible for that and not being able to act.”

  Jenny stepped back further, her eyes wide as Noelle advanced, her aquamarine eyes crackling faintly with lightning.

  “I have access to his every thought and feeling. What he feels, I feel. You think you’re angry? You know nothing. Ambrose wasn’t obligated to save anyone that night on the island. He told you all, repeatedly, that he had other priorities. You’re allowed to be angry, Jenny. You’re allowed to hate him. But don’t act like he owes you or anyone else. He’s as human as you are, no more, no less.”

  Jenny clenched her teeth so tightly her jaw ached, the sting of Noelle’s words cutting deeper than she wanted to admit.

  “Take me with you, then,” Jenny said abruptly, her voice firm.

  Noelle blinked, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “What?”

  “You’re going somewhere,” Jenny pressed. “I can tell. You’re on a mission, and it’s probably outside the island, isn’t it?”

  Noelle glanced away, her tail swishing thoughtfully. “Maybe.”

  “Then take me with you. I want to get stronger. I want to fight. I have a class now.”

  Noelle crossed her arms, her ears swiveling slightly. “And why would I do that? All you’ll want is to use that strength against Ambrose.”

  “Or I might die,” Jenny said bluntly, “and you’d be rid of a potential enemy.”

  Noelle frowned, looking slightly offended. “If I wanted you dead, I’d do it myself.” Her voice carried a faint growl, and Jenny suppressed a shudder. It was easy to forget that Noelle had once been a tiger.

  “Look, please,” Jenny pleaded. “I can be useful. I’ll carry stuff, or whatever you need. I just... I need to get stronger.”

  Noelle tilted her head, considering. After a long moment, she sighed, brushing a lock of white hair from her face. “Fine. But don’t get underfoot.”

  Jenny’s face lit up, though she deliberately avoided thinking about Noelle’s earlier words. Her anger toward Ambrose still burned fresh, her vow unbroken. But this was a chance she couldn’t waste.

  “So, where are we going?” she asked, falling into step beside Noelle.

  “To find information,” Noelle said simply, her gaze distant. “To find out who I am.”

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