All of them convened back at where the paths branched earlier where Galamon was waiting. A spiral staircase had opened up, leading deeper into the lower levels. There, the name of ‘living fortress’ truly made itself readily apparent, as the stairs were constantly intruded upon by overgrown flesh and conspicuous bones.

“This whole place should be burned,” Hegazar concluded as they moved deeper. “I see, now, why necromancy is banned. How many corpses went into this project? Thousands? Such a despicable thing.”

Durran called from the back of the line, “Who says they were human corpses?”

Hegazar either had no response or did not deign to give one, as their advance went quiet once more. The narrow spiral staircase was not so long, and they soon came to a much larger hall. And this hall… it was precisely what Argrave needed. It was the golden nugget to flash to the ravens to draw their eye.

The sight before them was not pretty. If Argrave had been shown the room in isolation, he might’ve assumed it was the site of some depraved sacrificial cult. The stone room was held up by a giant ribcage, each of the ribs acting as pillars for the building. Each of the ribs had a crucified body nailed on them—the torsos of these bodies were especially large, and all flesh had been ripped away to leave only bone.

“Good gods,” Vera held her hand to her nose, but despite the horrific scene, there was no smell. There was no blood or gore to make a scent. Anneliese looked perplexed by the Magister’s action, and Argrave knew right away that Vera feigned disgust. After all, she dabbled in necromancy herself. It was why Argrave was sure this journey would entice her.

Argrave was the first to step forward. “The heart chamber. What we came here for,” he explained.

Upon closer examination, the bodies crucified to the giant ribs were unusual in many ways. Their heads had only ears and mouths, both enlarged. The torsos were simply a bonelike cage, and the one Argrave examined had books locked behind it. They weren’t bodies at all, actually—they were necromantic creations that served as lockboxes for the valuables within.

“What’s in this?” Argrave asked.

“Now, how would I—” Hegazar began.

“Scholarly works by High Wizard Anders, detailing his unique ascension to A-rank utilizing necromantic magic,” the head just above the skeletal cage answered in a groan of a voice. It raised its head up to answer the question, and once it was finished, sagged lifelessly once more.

Argrave nodded, feeling a similar repulsion to the sights around that reminded of his time in the Low Way of the Rose. He turned to where the rest of his party was.

“There you have it, Magister Vera, Magister Hegazar. Ask these what’s inside them. I think you’ll quickly find that this journey was worth your time. I’ll caution, though—don’t try and open any of them. Try and wrench them open, cast magic? You risk triggering the enchantments nearby, and the contents will be destroyed. Anti-theft measures. Even a Wizard of the Order of the Rose would resort to common thievery, it would seem…”

Hegazar stepped closer, his head tilted. “I think… you might be trying to upsell your value, Argrave. Why would a magely Order dare destroy any of their knowledge? It’s foolish. Nonsensical. No Order would ever install measures like that into their stores of knowledge, the same way no merchant would ever toss gold into the sea. It’s far too valuable to lose.”

Try it, Argrave wanted to say, but he knew Hegazar loathed being challenged or humiliated. He stood before the Magister, smiling as he thought of a way to let him down gently.

“These are just copies to be sold,” Argrave looked to the skeletal cage. “The Order of the Rose was strongly devoted to personal freedom—necromancy requires such a thing, after all, given how much it intrudes on others’ rights. Wizards pay the one who put these items up, and they’re open. Voila.”

The cage nearby must’ve misheard Argrave, for it rattled off, “Scholarly works by High Wizard Anders, detailing his unique ascension to A-rank utilizing necromantic magic,” as Hegazar brooded over Argrave’s words.

“Yet you said there were enchanted items here,” Vera stepped up, crossing her arms.

“Not here,” Argrave nodded, “But yes.”

The cage let loose its words once again, and Hegazar looked up to it in annoyance.

“Unique ascension to A-rank, hmm? Necromantic?” Hegazar held his hand up. “We don’t need that.”

He cast a C-rank wind spell, and it cut towards the bone cage before them. Before it even reached its mark, the cage compressed, sparking. The enchantments on the book and the cage both shimmered violently for a moment before the books were finally compressed to a ridiculous degree.

The head above the cage laughed at them—a long, dry, and wheezy laugh that echoed throughout the heart chamber. The laughter was returned by each and every other head, and before long it was as though a whole gallery mocked them.

Argrave watched the heads. It was difficult not to join them in laughter. Vera certainly had no such issue—her voice joined along with theirs in mocking Hegazar. Anticipating the Magister’s rage, Argrave quickly said, “What a useless feature.”

“Yes,” Hegazar agreed at once. “It seems there is a reason their Order has died. They waste their time on foolish things like these.”

“It laughs at fools,” Vera wiped tears from her eyes. “I think it’s a wonderful addition to this place.”

“Well, shall we see what we’ve earned from this trip?” Argrave suggested, tugging at their greed to distract from the tension.

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