Chapter 130: Underground Vault [6]
Right now, the monster guardian was stronger than me—in every possible way.
I’d already used my strongest magic and skills on the Wampa, but they barely made a dent. The thick fur, the dense fat, the sheer force behind every movement—it was like trying to punch through a mountain with a toothpick.
And the worst part?
For some reason, the guardian wasn’t even paying attention to me.
He only had eyes for Alice.
That wasn’t normal.
A guardian spirit isn’t supposed to attack its own master—or more specifically, it can’t. That’s one of the basic laws behind their summoning. And yet... here we were.
Something was off.
But I didn’t have the luxury of time to figure out what.
We were already backed into a corner, and Alice was barely holding up under the pressure.
"I just hope the Duke doesn’t dock my pay for this," I muttered under my breath. "Or worse—kick me out of the North altogether."
With a sigh, I reached into my dimensional storage ring and pulled out my last resort.
A golden rod shimmered into existence in my hand.
It felt heavier than I remembered.
Not physically—but in weight of consequence.
This wasn’t something I planned to use. Not until situation turned into bad.
But they already had.
No time to hesitate now.
I grabbed the golden rod and quickly tapped on the artifact display panel, selecting items almost at random.
Click—!
A sharp hiss of magic being undone echoed through the chamber.
The enchanted glass cases, sealed boxes, and tightly locked chests all began to crack open, one after another. Magic seals flickered and died, locks popped off, and heavy lids creaked ajar.
"I don’t have time to be picky. I know a few of these by name—I’ll just grab whatever looks remotely useful."
If there was one thing I’d learned from playing way too many games, it was this: when brute force doesn’t work, bring in something stronger . With the right gear, almost anything is possible.
And I just happened to be standing in a room full of some of the rarest, most powerful relics in the world.
"This looks promising. That too. Yeah—definitely this one."
I started snatching up items without hesitation.
[Titanfang Gauntlet]
[Crown of Arclight]
[Winterroot Extract]
One by one, I shoved the relics into my bag or strapped them onto myself, my hands moving faster than my thoughts.
’I’m saving their daughter’s life here. No way they’ll complain about a few broken security spells... right?’
But even after looting several shelves, it still wasn’t enough.
What I needed wasn’t just gear—it was something that could flatten that oversized Wampa in a single blow.
And that was the problem.
With my stats, even these legendary artifacts would barely shift the balance. It didn’t matter how fancy the weapon was if I didn’t have the strength to use it right.
"What do I do..." I muttered, my nerves spiking.
Every second I spent hesitating was a second Alice had to face that monster alone.
Zzzeng!
A thunderous crash rang out—steel and bone clashing.
Alice was still holding her ground, but barely. Her sword arm trembled. Her breathing was ragged. One mistake and she’d be crushed.
’Damn it... if I’d just used my agility to draw its attention earlier... maybe she’d have had a clean shot.’
But it was too late for that now.
It didn’t matter that I was supposed to be the dealer—not the tank. It didn’t matter what role I should have played. The Wampa hadn’t given me that choice. It had locked onto Alice from the start, and nothing I did could pull its aggro away.
I clenched my fists, frustration boiling inside me.
’There has to be a way... something in here that can turn this around.’
And then my eyes landed on something.
Something I hadn’t noticed before—tucked away, almost like it didn’t belong.
Maybe... just maybe...And then I saw it.
Tucked behind a half-shattered pedestal, half-buried under layers of dust and old spell-paper—was a dagger.
Jet-black. Crooked in shape.
Its surface rippled like oil slick over obsidian, pulsing faintly with an ominous light.
I stopped breathing.
There was no label, no protective seal, not even a display case. Nothing to mark it as important.
In the game, this thing was a joke—an infamous red herring item. You had to jump through insane hoops just to unlock the hidden route where it showed up, and even then, it was widely considered one of the worst weapons in the entire game.
The air around it was thick, heavy, almost suffocating. The shadows nearby seemed to slither closer to it, drawn like moths to a flame.
And most importantly... it was calling to me.
Not in words. Not even in feelings. Just a pull.
A subtle tug in the gut. A sense of inevitability.
Like it belonged in my hand.
"...This is stupid," I muttered. "Absolutely reckless."
And yet—I stepped forward.
I didn’t even notice myself moving until my hand reached out and hovered just inches from the blade.
My fingers trembled.
’Is this how Alice felt when she grabbed that sword? Like it wasn’t a choice, but a moment that was always meant to happen?’
I swallowed hard and took the dagger.
The moment my fingers closed around the hilt—
Szzzt!
A flash of pain lanced through my arm.
Not burning. Not freezing.
Just wrong.
Like something ancient and cruel had just looked up from a deep sleep and noticed me.
My knees buckled, but I held on.
Because I couldn’t let go.
Literally—I couldn’t. My fingers wouldn’t open.
Dark veins crept up my wrist, and the dagger hummed—softly, like a whisper against my bones.
But strangely... it didn’t hurt.
Not in the way I expected.
Instead, it felt like recognition.
Like the weapon was reshaping itself—not physically, but functionally—to match me.
At that moment.
[Eligibility requirements met.]
[New functionalities of the artifact are being unlocked.]
The dagger, which had looked worn and old, revealed its deep, ink-like sheen.
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