The Little Necromancer [LITRPG]

Enya pressed her palms hard against her ears. The wraiths' shrieking still clawed at her skull, a constant, grating pitch that refused to fade. All she had to do was endure—just long enough for her newly enhanced summons to tear the enemies apart.

Digsby moved first. The giant rat skeleton's body had shifted since the re-role. Thicker legs, reinforced skull, layered bone plating—every piece of him carried more weight, more power. But his tail… that was the most dangerous change of all.

He dashed forward, then spun with a whip-crack turn. The tail blurred through the air before smashing into a charging wraith. The impact blasted the creature backward, its form unraveling into mist before it even hit the ground.

System Notification: You have landed a killing blow on the following creatures:
Vengeful Wraith (Level 26).
You have received 1685 EXP.
Experience Remaining Until Next Level: 6686/6704

Digsby didn't pause. He planted his paws, tail swinging into position again as another wraith closed in. The spine-like weapon was now plated with overlapping segments, each joint reinforced and tipped with small, blunt spikes. It looked less like a tail and more like a segmented bone mace built to break armor.

From her side, Pell stepped forward. "Stay here," he told her, summoning his harvester scythe. The weapon spun once in the air before dropping into his grasp, turning smoothly in his hands as if settling into a familiar rhythm.

Though it was hard to focus, she heard him grumble something before he left.

"I should hate having my body changed like this. But I guess this is just fate kicking my ass for refusing its offer years ago."

Then Pell vanished—blinking forward in a flash of distorted air—reappearing ten meters away beside a wraith slipping in through the dome's side. His scythe was already mid-swing, the curved blade cleaving clean through the spirit's neck, beheading it. The wraith's body dissolved into vapor before it hit the ground.

You have harvested Soul-Energy.
Soul-Energy Harvested: 88

Pell staggered half a step after the strike. His legs twitched to keep moving, momentum pulling at him. He caught himself just before he stumbled, adjusting his stance and raising the scythe again.

"Hells… disorienting," he muttered, scanning for his next kill.

Name: Pell
Level: 21
Class: Unassigned
Role: Assassin
Power Rating: 2947

Re-Role: Assassin
Description: A quick and agile combatant that specializes in attacking from unseen, or unpredictable angles. Bone density has been exchanged for a quicker, more nimble frame. Joints have been strengthened, allowing for extreme acrobatic movement.
Active: Blink 10 meters toward a target direction, immediately striking with a weapon. Kills refresh the cooldown.
Cooldown: 30 seconds.
Passive: Mark an enemy and enter a heightened state of killer instinct. Expose their weakness and see their pattern of movement and action. Must keep continual focus to maintain.

Enya watched him from the corner of her eye, blinking in and out of sight with each kill—just like Marybelle, the assassin girl from Talo's tournament.

Gradually, the screams became bearable. Not gone, but less knife-sharp and splitting. More and more wraiths fell, allowing Enya to finally release her hands.

Soul-Energy: 247/800

Good. It was enough to bring the rest online. Only Pell's kills fed her Soul-Energy through the harvester scythe, but as long as the wraiths stopped screaming, she didn't care who landed the blow.

"Alright—your turn," she called, reaching out with her Soul-Energy like a coiling tendril. It wrapped around her remaining summons, sinking into the dormant spell circuits she'd inscribed earlier. One by one, the last roles began to awaken.

First, was Carl.

Enya reached for the circuit lines embedded in Carl's bones, tracing the sigils with her will. The Soul-Energy pulsed, answering, and the glow swelled until it washed over his entire frame in pale light.

It faded slowly… and Enya frowned.

Carl still looked the same. Same long-limbed, soul-forged skeleton, same faint cracks along his ribs. If anything had changed, it was in the way he stood. He straightened to a perfect posture, shoulders set back, chin slightly lowered in a formal, almost butler-like manner. His hands clasped neatly behind his spine. Enya tilted her head.

"…Uh. It worked, right?"

Carl turned, facing Enya with his precise posture. There was no grand display of anything significant—not visually. But something stirred beneath . Enya could feel it. A familiar feeling, like small waves washing over her.

It was constant, but steady. Weak, but noticeable.

Soul-Energy.

"Wait…" she said slowly. She pulled up her system screen.

Soul-Energy: 154/800
Soul-Energy: 155/800
Soul-Energy: 156/800

"Huh?!" she exclaimed. Her gaze shot back toward him. "Is this you?!"

Carl gave a single nod, then turned to look at Digsby. A patch of the rat's plated body was cracked and splintered from a wraith's strike — nothing serious, but enough to need repairs. As Digsby slammed another wraith into the ground, Carl raised his palm.

Enya followed his gaze and activated Absolute focus, to inspect Digsby. That's when she saw it. The fractures knitted together. Chips reformed. Splinters sealed over until the bone was whole again.

"Okay… that's… cool," she said in awe. She looked at her own Soul-Energy and didn't see it going down. It kept rising continually . The bones on Digsby repaired themselves—all without Enya's own Soul-Energy or efforts.

"Okay, really cool!"

Finally—intrigued—she took a look at Carl's role stats.

Name: Carl

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Level: 21
Class: Unassigned
Role: Strategist
Power Rating: 1128
Soul-Energy: 17

Re-Role: Strategist
Description: A support role that manages battlefield sustain. Uses independently generated Soul-Energy to repair or restore summons without drawing from the summoner's reserves. Also provides Soul-Energy generation to the summoner.
Passive: Continually generates its own Soul-Energy up to half of its summoner's limit. Also provides its summoner with Soul-Energy generation up to their maximum cap.
Passive: Soul-Energy can be used to repair allied constructs, revive them, or to transfer directly back to the summoner.

"So you're really weak… I guess that makes sense."

His power rating was much lower than Pell or Digsby's. It seemed like Carl was more of a support skeleton and not a fighter. The interesting part, was that he had his own Soul-Energy system. So while her own Soul-Energy went up slowly, he had his own capacity that also increased.

Outside, more wraiths died, their screams beginning to fade.

The battle wasn't over.

Enya turned to the last in line. Ted.E. The final role to be activated.

"Well," she said, flexing her fingers. "Your turn."

Soul-Energy lanced from her core, spiraling around Ted.E's form and seeping into the prepared circuit burned into his bones. The glow spread, running across his ribs and down his limbs.

Then the changes began.

Bone erupted, not just in jagged spurs, but in solid plates. They grew over his shoulders, down his spine, sealing the ribcage into a solid chest piece. His limbs thickened with dense armor, segmented and scaled, joints reinforced until they looked like they could stop some type of siege weapon used in wars. Even his tusks reshaped, curling forward into thicker, sharpened weapons, their surface etched with faint ridges for added tearing power.

Enya couldn't help but stare.

Ted.E no longer looked like a half-rotten boarbear corpse held together by willpower and bone. His form was now much closer to when he was alive. An enormous bear with a boar's snout, with lizard-like scales, sharp claws and massive tusks. His entire body was full, no gaps like a ribcage or empty space between its bones. It was like bear version of Mr. Bones—more specifically, the noble skeleton knight.

"Wow…" she said in awe. This new appearance of his was by far the most drastic change out of her summons. He looked dependable; even though Enya had mostly been using him as a means of transport.

A scream came from above. All three of them looked up, seeing a wraith falling down from a jagged section of the broken bone dome. It landed down a few meters in front of them.

Ted.E immediately stomped forward, standing between Enya and the wraith. Carl stood even further ahead.

"What? Hey! Ted.E you're supposed to be in front!" Enya said.

What was going on? Why was Carl in front and not Ted.E? A strategist wasn't strong and was more suited to support.

Enya furrowed her brow and concentrated. She began to channel two bone spears. However, both the wraith and Carl rushed forward at each other. Before Enya could send out her bone spears, Ted.E stomped on the ground.

A ripple of pale light spread out from him in a tight circle, the air humming with a low, resonant thrum. Enya felt it in her bones—a tether, subtle but unmistakable, threading from every nearby summon back into Ted.E's large body.

Enya's concentration broke momentarily, confused at what was happening.

The next moment, Carl stepped out and engaged the wraith head on. He wasn't as powerful as Pell or as brutal as Digsby, but he fought with almost reckless precision. He was blocking with his forearm, countering with a stiff jab, wrapping his arms around the wraith's midsection in a bone-grinding grapple—everything to fight back.

The wraith shrieked, twisting violently, and there was a sharp snap. One of Carl's ribs, and then his arm—they cracked, splintering sharp jagged edges.

Enya almost moved to repair it herself. But before she could even pull at her Soul-Energy, the break began knitting itself back together, bone knitting over bone in seconds.

Was Carl repairing himself immediately?

She frowned. It seemed too fast. As the wraith was held at bay, she pulled up Carl's status screen.

Soul-Energy: 43
Soul-Energy: 44

His Soul-Energy didn't go down.

What is happening? She questioned in her mind.

A sound popped near her. She turned, looking at Ted.E's back. A crack split through the back plating of Ted.E instead, a jagged fissure spreading down one side. A chip of armor clattered to the ground.

As Carl took another blow to the midsection, snapping another rib—it immediately began to regenerate in seconds. And in that same time, another crack with chips fell from Ted.E's left foreleg.

Confused, she pulled up Ted.E's status.

Name: Ted.E
Level: 21
Class: Unassigned
Role: Guardian
Power Rating: 1411
Soul-Energy: 17

Re-Role: Guardian
Description: A sturdy frontline protector whose presence draws enemy aggression away from allies. Has massively reinforced bone plated armor and durability. Excels at holding key positions and shielding vulnerable units.
Active: Lets out a thunderous roar that agitates enemies into attacking the guardian. Foes with higher intelligence or willpower than the guardian can resist this effect.
Cooldown: 10 minutes.
Active: Stomps the ground to declare a protective field for a duration. All undead constructs within the zone redirect any damage they take back to the guardian, immediately repairing any injuries they sustain. Does not protect against instant death. Field lasts until canceled or the guardian perishes.
Cooldown: None

Damage redirection.

It wasn't Carl taking the damage. He wasn't repairing his own injuries. His injuries were instead being transferred over to Ted. E.

Carl broke free of the grapple, ducked a wild swing, and drove his fist clean through the wraith's head. It staggered back, giving Carl even more time for repeated blows. It soon dissolved into mist after a barrage, collapsing in on itself before drifting away.

When the fight was done, Ted.E still bore the deep fracture in his armor — until Carl turned, raised a hand, and pushed his own Soul-Energy outward. The crack began sealing over, smoothed away until the plating looked untouched.

Enya blinked.

A tank that could take damage for the others. A healer who could patch it all away. Together, they seemed… unfair.

It was like cheating.

Enya was fine with cheating.

The last wraiths fell to Pell's scythe and Digsby's crushing tail. Carl kept mending the hairline fractures on Pell's frame, smoothing out dents in Digsby's tail plating, while Ted.E stood like a statue at her side, shielding her from a final straggler. It rushed forward, only to collide with the boarbear's body, its attacks almost laughably weak against his plated armor.

After a tussle that took much longer than she expected—apparently even with all that armor, Ted.E was still a relatively weak combatant—they finally killed all of the wraiths. For now.

Elria emerged from the fog, her form flickering faintly in the dome's dim light. She looked between the four summons, brows lifting in mild surprise.

"Well," she said, tilting her head, "looks like everyone got a little makeover since I left." Her gaze lingered on Ted.E's plated bulk, on Digsby's brutal tail, then on Carl's immaculate stance. "And… two new faces. Or things. Y'know, most necromancers just summon regular bodies. Like dead human heroes or elven archers. Maybe a bone dragon or two. So why… a rat? And how did you manage to get a Terratusk?"

Pell rested his scythe on one shoulder, his empty sockets narrowing. "You vanished without a word. Now you're back with some stupid questions?"

Elria folded her arms, looking genuinely offended. "I left to get you something."

"Oh?" Pell's voice was dry. "A souvenir? Maybe your grandmother's dead arm?"

Instead of answering, she held out a length of chain. A small black orb dangled from it, openings cut into the surface to reveal a pale core. The light inside pulsed slowly, like a heartbeat.

Enya stared. "What is that?"

"A Carrier's Light," Elria replied, lifting it slightly. "It clears the fog and keeps the wraiths away. Problem is, I can't use it. Ghost body, remember?"

Pell eyed it. "Then how are you holding it?"

"It's a soul-item. Meant to guide the dead. Wouldn't be much use if souls couldn't touch it."

Pell's voice sharpened. "Guiding the dead sounds a little different from 'keeping wraiths at bay.'"

"It has more than one use," Elria said with an impatient flick of her wrist. "It'll clear the fog so you can move forward. Just imbue it with witchcraft and it'll activate."

"Witchcraft?" Pell asked.

"We don't know how to use witchcraft," Enya said.

Elria blinked. "You don't?"

Enya shook her head. "No."

"What—are you telling me neither of you is a witch? How are you even here? I can feel witchcraft on you. You'll need it to take the cauldron and athame. Don't tell me you've been using dumb mana and Soul-Energy."

"I'm not a witch," Enya said. "We—"

A thought came back to her. She turned to Pell. "The teddy bear!"

He paused. "Oh."

From his inventory, Pell produced the stuffed bear Felicity had given them. Its button eyes and stitched smile were as unsettling as ever. "This ugly thing?"

Elria recoiled instantly, her voice breaking into a hiss. The change was sudden—like a feral animal cornered by a predator.

"Are you insane?! Why are you carrying that?"

Enya and Pell exchanged confused looks. "What? It's just a bear," Enya said. She even gestured toward Ted.E. "I've got a skeleton one over there."

Ted.E tilted his head.

"That is not 'just a bear,'" Elria snapped. Her voice rose, sharp and trembling. "She gave you a Voidlight Bomb! That thing holds enough witchcraft power to wipe out this entire prison—souls and all!"