Akashic Records.
I had been here before, technically. When I used the Mortis Lucida spell scroll years ago to save Luna, I found myself in this library. Well, "library" was a word too inadequate to describe the infinity of this place, the sheer verticality of knowledge stacked upon knowledge.
Back then, I was a tourist. Now, I was an invader.
Mortis Lucida. Death through enlightenment. It was a spell well beyond the Ninth Circle, even when compressed to single-use scrolls. It defied the standard mana efficiency laws I had just spent hours correcting for Charlotte.
How did it exist? The answer was obvious to me now, viewing the world through the lens of my new Divinity. It was created by the Nightingales. My ancestors hadn't just been strong mages; they had cheated. They used our bloodline limit, the Mythweaver, to write a backdoor into the system. They didn't cast a spell; they wrote a story where the spell existed, and the universe complied.
And now, I could do better.
