Just a little mana was enough to transport Cira inside the treasury and her knees nearly buckled as the stench of death rattled her core. She was face to face with the largest humanoid skeleton she had ever met and the block of stone she extracted nearly stretched wall to wall. After turning herself into a pseudo-Kuja to burn the death away, she realized her life mana would need to be several times denser to do any more than make her feel better.

  Luckily, the so-called pestilence had not penetrated her treasury’s defenses, but the pressure was worse than at the bottom of that island. It was mildly concerning, but she did not think it outside the realm of possibility that it could be attributed to being within a smaller space before reaching a seal.

  Cira was just glad that the skeleton had not awoken in her absence. She meant to check on it the day she met Little Mudrock and completely forgot. Still, there was no need to panic at this point. Cira conjured a chair and took a good hard look at her new champion.

  “Just what are you…?” The goliaths didn’t have skeletons, so it couldn’t be that. Not to mention, the crown of horns on its head. “Mr. Skelton said there was nothing left… It’s only a remnant. I don’t feel a curse, but could this be a demon’s corpse?”

  Something about that just didn’t feel right. She wasn’t getting a very demonic impression—if anything, the opposite. These bones were immaculate and the waves of death dripping off it were purer then, well, any form of mana she had every felt. There was no other way to explain it. This dreadful skeleton held an undoubtably perfect quality that Cira couldn’t put her finger on.

  “Whatever shall I name you, oh great skeleton?” There was no trace of intelligence behind its empty eye sockets, but Cira stared into them anyway. It truly did have a regal countenance for something without skin, she admired. “Pestilence… Maybe Lenny? Short for Leonard. No… That won’t do. Perhaps Stile? I think I met a butler by that name once.”

  As convenient as a skeletal butler sounded, this was perhaps not the best specimen to make one out of. “Pesti? No, that’s not a name. Pesto? Pesto. Hm… I like it, but it just makes me hungry for ingredients I don’t possess. I know there’s something here, I just know it.”

  Cira wanted to consult Nina, but she wasn’t allowed in the treasury for now. It was too dangerous. This was a challenge she would have to see through on her own.

  “Penny!” Cira dropped a fist into her palm, “Who says you have to be the skeleton king? I daresay you could be the skeleton queen! I can’t see enough through that glimmering crystal prison to confirm but the skull and shoulders lack any distinguishing characteristics I may expect in humans anyway.”

  It is said that many beings, once reaching a certain peak of power, are liable to reproduce independently or attain a form which completely forgoes the ability or necessity to reproduce in pursuit of ever-greater heights of existence. It could be this was one such creature which evolved far beyond its natural form. That would explain the sense of perfection she felt. Quite possibly this skeleton was arduously refined to that point, but she would never know—not yet at least.

  That only begged the question, how did it die?

  “Of course. The sorcerous law of immortality.” Cira knew this was only one possibility, but it fit. “There is no such thing. Thus, all must die. The greater the life, the greater the death, I suppose.”

  This would also explain why being near this remnant was so strenuous, but in the end, she was never one to waste excessive time on speculation.

  “I don’t like Penny, though. It’s not regal at all.” She told the skeleton, “How about… Esther? That might work. Yeah, so if I take ‘pestilence’ and really draw it out like nobles do… You will henceforth be known as the Skeleton Queen Esther Ellinois Petalia de Ciel.”

  The treasury shook as the faintest glimmer of white sparked in the empty eyes for a brief second. So quickly, Cira could almost write it off as a trick of the mind were she not shivering. She could hear her heartbeat and feel each wave of blood as it pulsed through her neck. Letting out a breath, Cira flexed her aura back and desperately choked in whatever air she could.

  “My… that is concerning.” The skeleton was as dead as ever. Seemingly nothing had changed about it, but the pressure in the treasury had gone down significantly. Instead of disappearing, the death began to condense inward until nearly all of it was contained within just the block of stone and eventually inside the skeleton queen herself. “But god damn do I love a good name. Really rolls off the tongue.”

  She dusted her hands together and leaned back in pride. That was one ancient evil sealed up, and Cira could relax until the time came to further necromance her.

  “No, no… I should probably research the crystal first—try to produce some more if possible.” In the light of her treasury, it almost looked like amber. She would need to dive into the forbidden archive and perform extensive tests to figure it out, but that could wait. “Alrighty, Esther. Sweet dreams. I’ll seeya later.”

  Cira appeared again outside her treasury and with one look, Nina scrunched up her face and fluttered away through the ceiling. Feeling mildly offended, Cira stopped to take a bath before heading upstairs. The sun dried her hair as the wind caressed her cheek. Nina was off somewhere, so Cira threw her feet up on the table and let out a relaxed sigh. She could finally focus on that book she found earlier.

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  “Let’s see. ’Common Classifications of Birds Found in Tropical, Low-Altitude Climates’… Why did they waste time transcribing this?” Cira wanted an easy read, but it was painfully slow. Whoever wrote it really loved birds. That much was certain. The sorcerer herself thought she did too but wasn’t so sure anymore after just a couple chapters.

  Before she knew it, Cira was counting gulls on the horizon. This was a pleasant way to kill time until a sky-shattering noise shook her awake. The shrill sound and made her ears ring. Shards of light rained down on Breeze Haven from above, and Cira felt multiple sources of mana appear in an instant.

  What is this? An attack?! She watched the light fall like pieces of a broken eggshell. Did someone’s barrier break? I don’t understand. But someone is coming.

  Cira was out of her seat in an instant, throwing the book about birds down without a second thought. Whatever staves first came to mind appeared and started charging, while even Breeze Haven prepared to reflect magic.

  First to arrive was an old man she didn’t recognize who wore an expression she couldn’t read. Multiple other mages popped out of nowhere, staves blazing with all different elements. Some of their auras could almost compete with hers, but it was clear by how little mana they let escape that they were skilled at controlling their power.

  Taking on this many at once would not necessarily be difficult from within Breeze Haven’s barrier, and Cira was confident she could force a retreat or allow for one of her own, but complete victory would be difficult. For one, she couldn’t get a read on the first old man who appeared. Something about his countenance reminded him of her father, but his aura was completely hidden.

  I swear if that old man turns out to be his brother or something, someone’s getting the shit slapped out of them. Sorry, Old Man. Perhaps this is what we call fate.

  Hang on, that’s right. Does this mean I’ve found the Third Order? Where am I?

  The shards of light had fallen and dissipated by now, and there were easily ten mages, while a bunch of weaker ones more like her crew populated the clouds behind them. Okay… There’s literally hundreds of mages standing off with me right now. Did I do something wrong? I thought they were expecting me?

  “So, she’s a traitor, after all!” A young-looking woman appeared next, bright blue eyes sizzling with rage and betrayal.

  “Excuse me, who are you calling a traitor?” If anything, Cira was the one being betrayed. “Did you draw me in simply to ambush me?”

  Prismagora appeared at the top of Breeze Haven’s barrier and cast a sun to repel the night. In its light, Cira laid eyes on some kind of island strewn together with chunks of earth on rails and gears like something of an orrery. With a massive ring of what seemed like some kind of mithril alloy as the main component, this bizarre island was no more than a mile across, but had a few different layers to it. She felt some sort of spatial array on the underside of the ring, but multiple points where it was compressed throughout the island.

  What is this place…? The absurdity before her eyes almost detracted from the sense of anger she felt at being ambushed. I should have known they wouldn’t let the deritium go that easily.

  Cira found great resistance in establishing her domain over the island, so she took the light of distant stars twinkling in the night sky and countless tears of mana fell from above. This kind of mechanized island was a prime candidate for her orichalcum staff’s influence too, so she let it come out and shake the earth.

  Some noticed its appearance and switched all their attention to combatting its flow of mana but found themselves feebly sweating.

  This entire island is an artifact, huh? How interesting. A spatial array beneath the main ring keeps it aloft, but mana seems to focus in the center. If this artifact were a planetarium, the islet in the center would be the sun, and that’s where the mana well is. Completely self-sufficient and it seems they even get a little extra. For something much larger than Breeze Haven, it’s not bad I Guess.

  Many of the mages were panicking now, and the ones in the back had their spells uselessly diffuse in the air. Cira kept waiting for the old man to make his move, but he only watched the struggle build. If she didn’t know any better, she would say his expressionless face seemed amused.

  Finally, someone she recognized appeared. The heavyset mage named Roman who didn’t seem capable of dying. He was shortly followed by a striking young woman with bright red hair and a confused grin on her face.

  “Eliza!” Cira shouted, “What is the meaning of this?”

  She looked around, then up at the sun and down at the progressively glowing island. All her mages were making frantic, futile efforts to break through Gazen’s barrier while taking their own reflected magic in the face. Eliza covered her mouth and started cackling, “I would like to know as much myself! But I’m glad to see you finally made it. Now, you could have contacted us through the pendant once you reached the barrier, you know…”

  She looked up at Cira with a knowing grin.

  Hang on just a minute… There was a shattering barrier when I woke up, but… wouldn’t Breeze Haven have stopped when it got there? Her eyes went wide and the tips of her ears turned red as she tried to hide her embarrassment. The realization of what she had done finally hit her.

  Did I… sleep right through their barrier? I guess Breeze Haven does have a little less mana than earlier…

  Prismagora returned and stuck itself in the lawn, reabsorbing the sun from above and all the fallen starlight. Similarly, the mages were released from battling the weight of the world as it slowly overtook their island. The orichalcum found a spot on her other side, stabbed into the lawn as well. Conduit stopped shining and Shadow Quill reappeared from the old man’s shadow, making its way back as he chuckled.

  Seriously, who is this guy?

  “I-I’m sorry!” Cira bit her lip and tried not to look most of the mages in the eye, “I fell asleep!”

  “Ahaha!” The old man suddenly appeared just outside the edge of the barrier, right in front of Cira, and let out a boisterous laugh. All but Eliza and Roman were still freaking out like they were under siege. “I wondered what the child of Gazen was going to be like, but you may be even more of a handful than he was!” The tension left Cira’s shoulders. She knew there wasn’t going to be a fight any longer and let herself take a deep breath. “Let me introduce myself. I am the one who presides over the Third Order of the Lost Archive, High Arbiter Fitzgeralt Strom. You must be Cira, right?”

  The man held out his hand to shake, directly through Breeze Haven’s barrier with no resistance.