The System notification pinged softly in Ethan’s mind, a digital chime that had become both a beacon of progress and a reminder of the bizarre reality he now inhabited. *Level Up!* it announced, followed by a cascading list of stat increases. He ignored the specifics for now, focusing on the bigger picture. He was finally level five.

For the past few days, Ethan had been meticulously grinding. The Forest Guardians, thankfully, weren’t an endless supply of experience, but the system seemed to respawn them in a regular cycle. He’d carved a small, defensible clearing near his old town, using the remains of fallen trees and strategically placed rudimentary traps. Anya had even helped him craft some basic caltrops from sharpened bone shards left behind by the Guardians.

The work was monotonous, the constant battling physically and mentally draining, but the reward was tangible. Each fallen beast yielded precious resources: bone, chitin, corrupted flesh, and occasionally, shimmering shards of mana – the raw energy that fuelled the System and the Awakened. Ethan diligently collected everything, meticulously organizing it within his System Inventory.

His evolving Skeleton Warrior, whom he had affectionately (though silently) nicknamed "Bonehead," had become a formidable force. The initial frail skeleton had undergone a remarkable transformation. Now, Bonehead stood over six feet tall, its bone structure thickened and reinforced, clad in scavenged scraps of leather and metal. He wielded a crude, but effective, bone-axe with surprising skill, his movements fluid and deadly. He was no longer just a skeleton; he was a warrior, albeit one forged from death.

Ethan had been hoarding resources with a specific goal in mind: the summoning of a Skeletal Mage. He’d gleaned from the System's sparse information that mages were a powerful asset, capable of dealing ranged damage and wielding arcane abilities. As a Necromancer, his summoning options were, naturally, limited to the undead variety.

He sat cross-legged amidst the quiet of his clearing, the setting sun casting long, eerie shadows through the trees. Bonehead stood sentinel at the edge of the clearing, his glowing eye sockets scanning the perimeter. Ethan focused, accessing his Summoning interface within the System menu. A list of available summons appeared, each with a resource cost. The Skeletal Mage was the most expensive option, requiring a significant amount of mana shards and bone. He had just enough.

Taking a deep breath, Ethan selected the Skeletal Mage. The System prompted him for confirmation. *Confirm Summoning? Cost: 50 Mana Shards, 100 Bone.*

He hesitated for a moment. This was a gamble. He'd put all his eggs in one basket, hoping that the Mage would be a worthwhile addition to his growing undead legion. But the potential was too great to ignore. He pressed ‘Confirm.’

The air shimmered in front of him, distorting the light. A wave of bone-chilling cold swept through the clearing, causing Ethan to shiver despite the protective layer of his scavenged leather jacket. A swirl of black energy coalesced, crackling with dark power. The scent of decay, acrid and unsettling, filled his nostrils.

From the swirling darkness, a figure slowly materialized. Bones clicked and grated against each other as a skeletal frame took shape. It was smaller and more delicate than Bonehead, its ribs more visible, its skull slightly tilted as if in perpetual contemplation. Two vacant sockets glowed with a faint, ethereal blue light. The Skeletal Mage was… underwhelming.

Ethan felt a pang of disappointment. He’d expected… more. It looked weak, frail, almost pathetic. It didn't even have any equipment, just bare bones. He risked a glance at Bonehead, who remained stoic, though Ethan could swear he detected a flicker of amusement in his glowing eyes.

“Well,” Ethan muttered, trying to sound optimistic. “Let’s see what you can do.”

He tentatively reached out with his Necromantic energy, attempting to establish a connection with the Mage, to command it. The connection was there, but weaker, more tenuous than with Bonehead. It felt… different. The Mage didn't radiate brute strength; it radiated raw arcane power, a subtle hum of energy that resonated deep within Ethan.

He experimented, ordering the Mage to project a simple spell. With a slow, deliberate gesture, the Mage raised its bony hand. A small orb of black energy flickered into existence, then sputtered and died.

Ethan sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought.

He spent the rest of the evening trying to train the Skeletal Mage, but progress was slow. The Mage seemed clumsy, its spellcasting erratic and unreliable. Ethan felt a familiar wave of frustration wash over him. Was this it? Had he wasted his precious resources on a useless summon?

Just as he was about to give up for the night, a thought struck him. He remembered his unique ability, the trait that set him apart from other Necromancers: the power of evolution.

He focused his will, channeling his Necromantic energy into the Skeletal Mage. The air around the Mage crackled with energy. Its bones vibrated, emitting a low, resonant hum. Ethan felt a strange tingling sensation, a connection to the Mage that went deeper than mere command. He could sense its potential, its inherent power struggling to break free.

*Evolve Summon? Cost: 75 Bone, 25 Corrupted Flesh.* The System prompt appeared in his mind. He had exactly that amount. Without hesitation, he confirmed.

The transformation was more violent than Bonehead’s had been. The Skeletal Mage convulsed, its bones snapping and reforming. The ground around it trembled. The air grew thick with the scent of ozone and decay. The light emanating from its eye sockets intensified, burning with a brilliant, otherworldly blue.

The transformation lasted for what felt like an eternity. When it was over, the Skeletal Mage was gone. In its place stood a figure radiating power, a being of terrifying potential.

The new entity was still skeletal, but its form had been drastically altered. Its ribcage had widened, creating a hollow cavity that pulsed with arcane energy. Its skull was adorned with strange, bony protrusions that resembled a crown. It now possessed tattered remnants of what looked like a tattered robe, seemingly woven from shadows and dust. A gnarled staff, made from pure bone, appeared in its hand, crackling with dark energy.

But the most significant change was the aura surrounding it. A palpable field of Necromantic energy radiated outwards, chilling the air and making the very ground seem to wither. The blue light in its eye sockets burned with an almost malevolent intelligence.

*Evolution Complete. Skeletal Mage evolved into Skeletal Summoner.* The System notification announced.

Ethan held his breath, uncertain of what to expect. This was beyond anything he had imagined. He tentatively reached out with his Necromantic energy, attempting to establish a connection with the Summoner. This time, the connection was immediate and overwhelming. It felt like plugging into a power grid, a surge of pure, unadulterated Necromantic energy coursing through him.

The Skeletal Summoner slowly raised its staff, its bony fingers tracing arcane symbols in the air. A low chant, guttural and unsettling, emanated from its skeletal throat. The ground around it began to tremble.

From the shadows, fissures opened in the earth. And from those fissures, they emerged. Skeletons. Not the frail, basic skeletons he'd initially summoned. These were different. Smaller, yes, but faster, more agile. They moved with a predatory grace, their bone structures reinforced with a strange, dark energy.

Dozens of them.

Ethan stared in awe and dawning realization. The Skeletal Summoner wasn’t just a mage; it was a generator, a walking, talking, skeletal factory of undead minions. His legion had just grown exponentially.

He finally understood the true potential of his Necromantic class, the power that lay hidden beneath the stigma and the fear. He wasn't just a summoner of the dead; he was an architect of undeath, a shaper of bone and shadow.

A smile, a genuine smile, spread across Ethan's face. The fear was still there, the uncertainty of the future, the knowledge that he was an outcast. But now, there was also a sense of purpose, a glimmer of hope in the darkness.

He looked at his evolving legion – Bonehead, the stoic warrior, and the Skeletal Summoner, the harbinger of undeath. He was no longer alone. He was building something, something powerful, something that could change the world. Or at least, survive it.

The whispers of the System echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of the challenges ahead. He had levels to gain, skills to master, and a world to conquer. And now, he had an army to help him do it.

The night was filled with the rasping sounds of bone on bone, the clicking of joints, and the eerie chants of the Skeletal Summoner. Ethan Blackwood, the boy who had once lived a mundane life in a quiet Vermont town, was now a Necromancer, a master of the undead. And the reign of the Evolved Dead was just beginning.