The tomb-like classroom pulsed with an eerie stillness, its stone walls etched with skeletal carvings that seemed to shift in the flickering glow of bluish sigils embedded in the floor. The air was heavy, carrying the faint scent of damp stone and ancient mana, the low hum of the room's energy resonating like a distant heartbeat. Darius sat at a cold stone desk, his training robes—blue wind motifs faintly shimmering—catching the sigils' glow, his heart steady but buzzing with anticipation. The ten other students around him were quiet, their eyes fixed on the raised platform at the room's front, its surface carved with intricate bone patterns that seemed to writhe under the light. The nervous scholar beside him clutched a tome, her fingers trembling, while a stoic mage across the room rested a hand on her staff, her face unreadable. The oppressive energy of the tomb pressed against Darius's skin, his thoughts flickering to his breakthrough with Ignatus—using natural wind mana to graze a master—and his vow to prevent a dark future, the system's silent nudge amplifying his curiosity for spirit magic. Professor Bone stood at the platform's edge, his tall, cloaked figure commanding, his hood shadowing eyes that glinted like twin embers, his presence both charismatic and unsettling after his dramatic entrance.

Bone's voice broke the silence, smooth and resonant, carrying an eerie charm. "Spirit magic," he began, his tone weaving curiosity into the room, "is about breathing life into what should not have it—giving will to the lifeless. But to do that, you must first master the movement of your soul." The sigils flared briefly, casting ghostly shadows across the walls, the air humming louder as he spoke. He raised an arm, and with a casual flick, it detached, the cloaked limb floating free, its fingers flexing in the air as if waving. The class gasped, the scholar beside Darius clutching her tome tighter, her eyes wide, while the stoic mage leaned forward, her staff clinking against the desk. Bone's arm circled the room, gesturing playfully, the motion eerie yet precise, before rejoining his body with a soft click. "Your soul is the spark," he said, his voice light but profound, "and moving it lets you infuse will into your spells, making them act with purpose." His tone was charismatic, a grin flashing under his hood, easing the tension as a nervous chuckle rippled through the students. The scholar whispered, "Is that safe?" her voice shaky, while the stoic mage attempted a small mimic, her fingers twitching faintly, earning a nod from Bone. "It's unnatural," he teased, "but that's the point."

Darius's heart raced, the demonstration sparking a connection to his Anemoi Shades, their wind-spirit forms acting with intent, guided by his will. His vow to surpass Lucien pulsed, Elara's focus a brief motivator, but he anchored himself in Bone's words, the idea of soul movement a new frontier. The sigils pulsed, the tomb's energy surging as Bone stepped forward, his cloak shimmering with bone-white runes. "To move your soul, you must feel its rhythm," he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, the room's hum deepening. With a gesture, the stone floor trembled, and bones rose from it, pale and polished, rattling in a spectral dance. They swirled around the platform, clattering and clicking, assembling into a small, intricate instrument—a bone lute, its frame delicate yet eerie, strings of shimmering mana glinting in the sigils' glow. The students leaned forward, transfixed, the scholar's tome slipping slightly, the stoic mage's eyes narrowing in focus. Bone cradled the lute, his fingers brushing the strings, and a haunting melody filled the room, its notes low and resonant, weaving through the air like a living thing.

The music was beautiful yet chilling, each note vibrating with the tomb's energy, making the sigils glow brighter, their bluish light pulsing in rhythm. A stray bone on the platform floated upward, swaying to the melody, a demonstration of soul movement as Bone's will infused the inanimate. "Music moves the soul," he said, his voice weaving seamlessly with the lute's notes, "its rhythm stirs what lies within, guiding it to act. Master this, and your spells will carry your will, alive with purpose." The class swayed slightly, caught in the melody's pull, the nervous scholar's tension easing, her eyes wide with wonder, while the stoic mage tapped her staff lightly, her face softening. Darius felt the music stir something in him, a faint pulse in his core, like the hum of his Zephyr form but deeper, tied to his essence. The sigils flared, a bone fragment drifting higher, guided by Bone's melody, the tomb's air humming with a warmth that belied its cold stone. Bone's grin widened, his eyes glinting under the hood. "Feel that rhythm," he said, his tone charismatic, "and you'll learn to move what makes you alive." The students were awestruck, the melody lingering, the tomb's energy alive with the promise of spirit magic's secrets.

The stone-walled classroom pulsed with a low hum, its skeletal carvings glinting in the bluish glow of sigils embedded in the floor, their light dancing across the heavy air. The faint scent of damp stone mingled with the warm resonance of Professor Bone's bone lute, its haunting notes fading but leaving a vibration in Darius's core. He sat at his cold stone desk, his training robes—blue wind motifs faintly shimmering—catching the sigils' glow, his heart racing with the lesson's implications. The ten other students around him were equally captivated, the nervous scholar's tome forgotten in her lap, her eyes wide with wonder, while the stoic mage gripped her staff, her usual reserve softened by the music's pull. Professor Bone stood on the raised platform, his tall, cloaked figure commanding, his hood shadowing eyes that glinted with charismatic mischief. The bone lute rested in his hands, its mana-strings shimmering, a stray bone fragment still floating lazily above the platform, swaying to the echo of his melody.

Bone set the lute aside, its frame clattering softly as it rested on the stone, and his voice filled the room, smooth and philosophical, weaving through the tomb's hum. "Music is a metaphor for the soul's movement," he said, his tone warm but profound, the sigils flaring briefly. "It stirs what lies within, gives it rhythm, direction. Spirit magic is about animating the inanimate—giving will to what has none—but to do that, you must learn to move your soul, to infuse your spells with intent." The air thickened, the skeletal carvings seeming to pulse with his words, the students leaning forward, their breaths shallow. "The soul is your essence, clashing with the world's chaos. Music aligns it, lets you guide it into your magic, making bones dance or spells act alive." He gestured, and a sigil glowed brighter, a bone fragment spinning faster, as if responding to his will. "How does the melody make you feel?" he asked, his eyes sweeping the class, a sly grin under his hood. The scholar stammered, "It's… alive, like it's pulling me," her voice shaky but earnest. The stoic mage spoke softly, "Focused, like my staff could hum with it." Bone nodded, his grin widening. "Good. Let's bone up on soul control, shall we?" The pun drew nervous chuckles, lightening the tomb's oppressive air, the students' personalities shining through their answers.

Darius's mind raced, Bone's philosophy resonating with his own growth. The idea of moving his soul to infuse spells with will felt like an extension of Ignatus's lessons on asserting reality, his Anemoi Shades already acting with intent, their wind-spirit forms guided by his focus. His vow to prevent a dark future burned brighter, the system's silent nudge amplifying his ambition to master spirit magic. Elara's intensity flickered in his thoughts, her drive a quiet spur, but he anchored himself in Bone's words, the concept of soul movement a new layer to his mana control. The sigils pulsed, the tomb's energy humming in sync, urging him to dive deeper. Another student, a wiry boy with restless hands, piped up, "It felt like my heart was… dancing?" Bone laughed, the sound warm yet eerie. "Exactly! Your soul wants to move—let it." The class buzzed with quiet excitement, the tomb's atmosphere shifting from eerie to engaging, Bone's charismatic style weaving them together, the sigils glowing brighter as their anticipation grew.

Bone clapped his hands, the sound sharp, the air vibrating as a scattering of bones rose from the floor, small fragments clattering softly. "Let's try it," he said, his tone encouraging, his eyes glinting under the hood. "Feel your soul's rhythm, like you felt the music. Reach for it, then move a bone—just a twitch." He pointed to the fragments, one hovering before each student, their surfaces pale and polished, glinting in the sigils' light. Darius focused, his core stirring, the hum of his mana echoing the lute's melody. He reached inward, sensing a faint pulse, like the wind's rhythm in his Zephyr form, but deeper, tied to his essence. The bone before him twitched, wobbling slightly, and he grinned, the small success thrilling. The scholar's bone trembled but fell, her face flushing, while the stoic mage's bone spun slowly, her eyes narrowed in focus. Bone paced, his cloak shimmering, offering feedback with humor. "Not bad, scholar—don't break a bone over it!" he teased, easing her embarrassment. To the mage, he nodded, "Steady, like your staff—keep it flowing." The class bonded through shared effort, banter flowing—students laughing at Bone's puns, the wiry boy joking, "My bone's got no rhythm!"—the eerie setting now vibrant with engagement.

Bone raised a hand, the bones settling, his voice dropping to a teasing lilt. "That's the start—moving your soul is just the first note. Tomorrow, we'll play a full chord." The sigils hummed, their glow softening, the tomb's energy alive with suspense for deeper lessons. He grinned, his eyes flashing under the hood. "Get ready to rattle some bones with your will!" The pun sparked laughter, lightening the mood, the students' faces alight with wonder and determination, the tomb's air humming with the promise of spirit magic's secrets.

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