It was a copper metal door, protected by magic. Forcibly breaking it open would likely require a tremendously powerful spell, which could cause the underground cavern to collapse.
Griphook used the key to unlock the vault door, then pocketed the key and gestured for Cyrus to proceed.
Cyrus entered, finding the vault completely empty.
"Is there really nothing here?" He knew this small vault was meant to mislead, but he had expected the four ancient magic guardians to leave at least some lesser treasures behind.
Quickly, he realized it wasn't that nothing had been left, but that the treasures had already been taken.
Black stains marked the floor and walls—bloodstains, still recognizable despite being over a century old.
Of course, Ranrok had been here.
Cyrus thought.
Using living blood to trace ancient magic was a technique detailed in Ranrok's manuscripts.
Even in this world without the protagonist of "The Legacy," he had found a way into the vault.
But Cyrus also knew that the guardians would never let him obtain the ancient magic.
"I'll wait for you outside, sir," Griphook said, intending to leave, but Cyrus stopped him.
"Why make things so complicated, Mr. Griphook?" Cyrus didn't turn to look at him but kept his eyes fixed on the bloodstained, now darkened wall.
"Sir, I don't understand your meaning?"
"Don't understand? I guess your goblin reinforcements are already on all the carts that can reach this vault, planning to rush in here at any moment, aren't they?" Cyrus said softly.
The goblins were not a concern to him.
He drew his wand, no longer needing to disguise himself, and reverted to his true form.
"You're... Tom Riddle?" Griphook's pupils contracted.
"I'm giving you a chance." Cyrus waved his wand in the air, and a glowing blue light spread like a mist. Griphook instinctively tried to evade, but the light caused no harm.
Instead, under this magic, the blackened wall vanished, revealing a new, vast dark space before Griphook.
"This is..."
His eyes widened in shock, unable to fathom that there was another hidden vault within the vault.
"This is an arena." Cyrus, hands clasped behind his back, looked down at Griphook with eyes that seemed to burn but felt cold.
In reality, this enormous black space was still not the place where the ancient magic was stored.
To meet the four founders, one had to pass through several tests.
Cyrus didn't want to be troubled, so he decided to solve both the tests and the goblins at the same time!
Griphook seemed to be paralyzed by the shock and fear of Cyrus, unable to move.
Meanwhile, Cyrus boldly stepped into the dark space.
It was vast, with nothing visible when looking up, though he suspected there was a ceiling, as the space was filled with circular stone pillars wider than a person's body.
It was as if they were supporting the entire ground above.
Cyrus walked through the darkness, in the boundless gloom, only he saw the white light rising from the ground, forming shapes like mist swept by the wind.
He arrived at the center of that light—
"Reveal your true form!"
The light immediately spread outward, but the cavern did not become any brighter.
In fact, the only thing that changed was the ground beneath Cyrus's feet. What had been gray rock and soil transformed into something resembling frozen ice.
Beneath the black ice, rows of half-kneeling knight statues lay in silent slumber.
This was another difference from the game. In the game, there were only a few statues beneath the ice, but here, there were at least dozens, enough to be considered an army.
Cyrus stood at the center of the darkness, looking contemptuously at the small and solitary Griphook.
Then, he simply closed his eyes to rest, completely disregarding Griphook.
At this moment, Griphook was extremely nervous. The numerous incidents Cyrus had caused highlighted his power.
Especially recently on the Scottish Highlands coast, where he had single-handedly killed a fire dragon!
A fire dragon usually required several trained dragon handlers to subdue, and not in a direct fight. They would typically use the Conjunctivitis Curse to attack the dragon's eyes. Most spells could not penetrate a dragon's hide.
Such a powerful wizard could easily take his life.
But he was not entirely desperate; at least this "Tom Riddle" was too arrogant.
Griphook could not see the change beneath Cyrus's feet, could not see the neatly arrayed statues of the knights under the ice. He only thought Cyrus planned to fight all the goblins alone, which he deemed not only foolish but a death wish!
Even if goblins were not individually powerful, they were still capable of waging war against wizards.
In the past century, the goblins had reforged numerous enchanted weapons. Even the British Ministry of Magic would need to deploy all its Aurors to counter a fully armed goblin army!
And he thought he could face them alone?
Did he think he was Dumbledore or perhaps the Dark Lord?
Ridiculous!
A cruel smile appeared on Griphook's face.
Once Bodrick arrived with the goblin army, "Tom Riddle" would be doomed!
Griphook waited anxiously, unsure how much time had passed when a distant rumbling sound echoed from outside the vault. He grew excited; it was the sound of iron wheels on metal tracks.
His reinforcements had arrived.
Bodrick, clad in armor, charged through the vault door, exuding a menacing aura. Though short in stature, his ghastly visage struck fear into those who saw him.
Cyrus opened his eyes to see Griphook scurry behind Bodrick, whispering something. The noise of the carts outside continued unabated as more and more goblins flooded into the vault.
Their skin was a sickly yellow-green, reminding Cyrus of a swarm of greedy, insatiable locusts.
"So, you're Tom Riddle!" Bodrick stepped forward arrogantly, his tone filled with disdain. "You killed my brothers Docklow and Adora!"
Cyrus frowned slightly:
"Call me Cyrus, Mr. Goblin. I don't like that name."
"I don't care what your name is because you will die here. Do you expect me to build you a tombstone?" Bodrick sneered.
"Attack!"
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