With a sigh, I left the scroll alone for Varan to store, having stored every item from every room, I went on, focusing instead on the other items within the room. Artifacts, magical gems, enchanted objects—each brimming with history and raw power.
Some were relics I vaguely remembered seeing versions of from before my memory loss, while others were entirely new to me. The sheer scale of the hoard was mind-boggling, yet each discovery added more layers to the mystery of this place.
Varan's voice cut through my thoughts. [I've detected several other vaults deeper within this complex.]
I hesitated. "There's more?!"
[I'm afraid we've only scratched the surface.]
Curiosity piqued, I pressed forward. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly, but I could sense the shifts in the air that indicated more rooms beyond. Eventually, we arrived at another door, this one larger than the previous ones. It was engraved with symbols I didn't recognize, though something about them felt familiar.
As I stepped inside, the atmosphere changed. The room was vast, even more so than the previous vaults, and at its center stood a massive crystal, glowing with a pale, otherworldly light.
"What… is that?"
[That, sir, is a Soulstone.]
"A Soulstone?" I repeated, feeling an emotionlessness rise from within.
[Yes. It's an object, capable of storing not only immense amounts of magical energy but also the essence of souls. They were used in ancient times for both benevolent and nefarious purposes.]
I approached the crystal cautiously, sensing its immense power. It thrummed softly, as if alive, and I couldn't help but wonder whose or what souls it contained. "Danger level?"
[Potentially high. But it seems dormant for now.]
Relief washed over me, but I couldn't shake the eerie feeling that the stone was watching me, waiting for something. I backed away slowly, deciding it was best to leave this particular artifact untouched—for now.
I noticed also that there was a pedestal at the back of the room, upon which sat a single object: a dark crystal, faintly glowing with an inner light.
"Varan?" I asked cautiously.
[That... looks to be a Heart of Oblivion.] Varan's voice was quieter now, almost reverent. [It is a fragment of pure, unbridled chaos. To touch it is to invite madness, but to harness it could grant power beyond imagining.]
I stared at the crystal, its light flickering in sync with my heartbeat. "What should we the both of them?" I asked, my head going back and forth between the soulstone and the heart of oblivion.
[Store it, but be warned, sir... these are no ordinary relic. Even in storage, they will try to influence you in futility. You must be vigilant.]
Reluctantly, I nodded. "Store them."
There was a moment of hesitation, a pause as if even Varan was unsure, but then the familiar rumble came, and the crystal disappeared into storage. The room felt emptier, but the oppressive atmosphere remained.
I exhaled, feeling a strange mix of relief and tension. "Let's keep moving."
The further I went, the more I realized this vault wasn't just a place of storage—it was a fortress, built to house items that should have been forgotten. The sheer number of artifacts, weapons, and magical constructs was overwhelming. Every step I took, I found myself questioning the wisdom of continuing, but curiosity pushed me forward.
As I neared the end of the hallway, I found one last door. Smaller than the others, it seemed almost insignificant by comparison. I opened it, expecting yet another treasure trove.
Instead, I found a single chest.
It was simple in design, made of wood and bound with iron. There were no runes, no magic emanating from it. It was, by all appearances, an ordinary chest.
"Varan, what do you think?" I asked, stepping closer.
[Unknown. There is no detectable magic here.]
I knelt beside the chest, running my hand over its surface. There was something off about it, something that made my skin prickle with unease. Ignoring the feeling, I reached for the latch and lifted the lid.
Inside, there was only a single piece of parchment, old and yellowed with age. I picked it up carefully, unfolding it to reveal a message written in neat, precise handwriting.
"To the one who finds this vault... be warned. Some doors should remain closed."
The words hung in the air like a curse, and for the first time since entering the vault, I felt a true sense of dread.
"Varan." I whispered, folding the parchment.
[Done.]
Stepping back into the hallway, I could feel the atmosphere shift slightly. The vault, vast and ancient, seemed to be watching me, its silence heavy and all-encompassing. The warning from the parchment still echoed in my mind: Some doors should remain closed.
But curiosity continued to drive me forward. As I walked, I replayed everything I had seen so far—the weapons, the treasures, the strange and powerful relics. All of them had their uses, their dangers. But what troubled me most was the Heart of Oblivion. I could still feel its presence, a dark, distant hum at the edge of my consciousness, like a low, ever-present whisper. I made a mental note to keep it under close watch.
Before long, I found myself standing in front of yet another door. This one was simpler, less imposing than the others, but no less mysterious. I opened it cautiously and stepped inside.
This room was entirely different from the rest. Where the other chambers had been filled with wealth and power, this one was barren—empty, save for a single statue in the center. It was an intricate carving of a man, dressed in ancient robes, his face stern and thoughtful. His hands were raised, palms out, as if offering something invisible to the sky above.
"Varan?" I said softly, inspecting the statue.
[There is no immediate threat here, sir. However... this statue appears to be a construct of ancient magic. It may have once been an advisor or guardian of some sort.]
I circled the statue slowly, noting the fine craftsmanship and the faint lines of magic that ran through the stone. "Is it still functional?"
[It is dormant. I cannot determine its full purpose without reactivating it.]
I paused, considering my options. "Let's leave it for now. There's no need to awaken something we don't fully understand."
As I turned to leave the room, the faintest hum reached my ears—a soft vibration, almost like a whisper. I glanced back at the statue, my instincts telling me something was off. But the room remained still, the statue unmoving. Shaking off the feeling, I continued my exploration.
The next room I entered was far more lavish, filled with what appeared to be luxurious artifacts of ancient times. Intricate tapestries hung on the walls, depicting scenes of battles, celebrations, and moments of triumph. Furniture crafted from rare woods, inlaid with silver and gold, lined the room, along with grand mirrors that reflected the soft glow of enchanted torches. The air was thick with a faint scent of incense, the kind that was used in rituals or to honor powerful beings.
I approached one of the mirrors, my reflection clear but strange. The figure in the glass stared back at me, but there was something off about it—a subtle shift in the eyes, a shadow that moved differently than my own. I took a step back, unsettled.
[These mirrors are enchanted,] Varan explained. [They show the viewer their inner self, but in some cases, they may reflect what should be, rather than what is.]
"Interesting," I muttered. I stared at my reflection for a moment longer, feeling a strange pull, as if the mirror was trying to show me something I couldn't yet comprehend. With a shake of my head, I turned away and examined the rest of the room.
At the far end, there was a display case, its glass shimmering with a protective barrier. Inside was a crown—ornate, studded with gems, but clearly more than just a symbol of royalty.
[The Crown of Dominion,] Varan said, her voice tinged with caution. [It grants its wearer control over large masses of people, bending their will to your own. But such power comes at a cost. Prolonged use has been known to drive its wearers mad.]
"Of course it does," I sighed. "What doesn't in this place?"
I stared at the crown for a moment, debating whether to store it. The temptation of such power was undeniable, but the risks... "Store it," I said after a pause. Better to have it and not need it than to leave it behind.
[Stored, sir.]
We also came across a cellar, one so large that there were a few million of barrels and bottles of distilled and fermented drinks, numbering at least three-million barrels and two-million bottles. Vodka, gin, baijiu, shōchū, soju, tequila, rum, whisky, brandy, and singani, beer, wine, cider, sake.