The ancient treasure vault lay hidden within the depths of the Dark Mountains, veiled in mystery and sealed off from the world for centuries. The ruins were overgrown with vines, their massive stone walls bearing countless scars left by the passage of time. Each mark etched into the stone was a silent testimony, a forgotten record of an era long gone, leaving behind a somber sense of history for those who dared to look.
This ancient structure, built during the heyday of the Gondor Empire, was designed with a solidity and weight that felt foreign to the people of Ansu. Gawain's memories traced back to the northern expansion forces' discovery of this place, when it was already a ruin—and even then, it had looked as old and worn as it did now.
Gawain led his team—Rebecca, Amber, and Sir Byron—through the largest archway into the mountain's depths. The flickering torchlight cast long, dancing shadows along the stone walls, creating an atmosphere both haunting and mysterious. The corridor stretched before them like an otherworldly passage, reminiscent of the mythical "corridor of souls" leading to the land of the dead. Amber, clearly uneasy, muttered, "Honestly, we should've brought your aunt, Heidi. What's the point of bringing you, Rebecca, if you can't even cast a basic light spell?"
Rebecca flushed in embarrassment. "Fireballs… fireballs can work as light spells too…"
But her voice was unconvincing, barely masking her discomfort.
Sir Byron, trailing a few paces behind Gawain, examined the stone walls with the scrutiny of an experienced warrior. The walls' engravings were worn and faded, yet they conveyed an unmistakable air of ancient power. For a moment, he was reminded of his years as a mercenary, of exploring abandoned places filled with secrets and dangers. "How long has this ruin been here?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and reverence.
"No one knows for certain," Gawain replied, his gaze fixed on the shadows ahead. "When we first found it, it was already a ruin. The scholars who accompanied us thought it was from the 'Starfire Era'—a time of great expansion in Gondor's later years. It was during this period that the Empire activated the Deep Blue Well, a massive source of mana, and set out on a mission to expand its territory. They constructed fortresses and research facilities along their borders, hoping to uncover more focal points of magical power like the Deep Blue. But many of these projects were eventually abandoned."
Rebecca looked up, her eyes wide with awe. "So they never found another power source like the Deep Blue?"
"They found a few lesser focal points," Gawain explained, "but nothing close to the magnitude of the Deep Blue. The Well was unlike anything else—a mana fountain so vast that its output could power every mage tower across Ansu for a month. Some scholars today even believe that the Deep Blue Well's explosion in 1739 triggered the magical cataclysm that followed. While the explosion didn't immediately destroy the Empire, it ripped open a rift in the elemental planes, setting off a chain reaction. Elemental forces continued to grow unstable, leading to the cataclysm the following year. Unfortunately, we'll never know for sure—the Deep Blue Well and the entire area around it were obliterated in the blast."
Rebecca, herself a mage, could scarcely imagine such a power source. "The Gondor Empire must have been… extraordinary."
"It was," Gawain agreed, though his voice was tempered with caution. "Their power was also their downfall. When they failed to find a second mana source comparable to the Deep Blue, they abandoned numerous installations. This site was likely one of those, a combined fortress and research center built during the Starfire Era."
Amber's face suddenly tensed. "You don't think there could still be any ancient magical constructs or creatures lurking here, do you?"
Gawain shot her an amused look. "You're not afraid of raiding burial grounds, but a ruin gives you pause?"
"That's different!" Amber protested, crossing her arms. "When I'm dealing with graves, at most, I'm facing a vengeful spirit. But these ancient facilities? Who knows what they left behind—mechanized creatures, magical constructs… I've heard stories."
Gawain sighed, exasperated. "It's the same with your nonsense about the Dark Mountains and now these ancient ruins. Where do you get all these wild ideas?"
Amber flashed a smug smile. "It's a special gift. I'm the chosen of the Goddess of Night, you know. Sometimes, if I pray intensely enough, she grants me divine insights."
Without a word, Rebecca conjured a tiny fireball and tossed it in Amber's direction. Amber yelped as it left a smudge of soot on her face. "Chosen of the Goddess? Really?"
Gawain, no longer amused by their banter, pressed on. Ahead of them, a massive door of dark violet metal stood at the corridor's end. The door bore the characteristic design of Gondor's Starfire Era—solid and severe, with intricate engravings of soldiers, fortresses, and battle scenes rendered in abstract detail.
Amber, wiping the soot from her face, stared at the door, her eyes widening. "Is this… could it really be made of solid purple steel?"
"Yes, it is," Gawain replied, rapping his sword handle against her head. "And if you try to pry any pieces off, I'll have Rebecca cast fireballs at you for every ounce. Better stick to your salary than these 'souvenirs.'"
Amber muttered under her breath, "Old miser…"
Ignoring her grumbling, Gawain reached into his coat and retrieved a small, platinum disk—the key to the vault.
Rebecca looked at it skeptically. "It's been centuries. Are you sure it'll still work?"
Gawain offered a faint smile. "This is Gondor technology. As long as the structure's main enchantments are intact, the doors should still function."
As if responding to his words, intricate patterns on the platinum disk began to light up, one by one. The same glow appeared on the door, tracing the engraved figures with an ethereal, otherworldly light.
A deep rumbling sound echoed from the corridor walls as the entire door began to vibrate. The metallic locks and bolts clicked open, one after another, until the door slowly swung wide, revealing a dark expanse beyond.
Gawain and his team, prepared for anything, stepped back and covered their noses, allowing any trapped gases to dissipate. Gawain activated a "Breath Protection" spell, creating a faint barrier to protect them from potentially harmful air trapped inside for centuries. The spell, though simple, ensured that their air remained clean as they entered the sealed vault.
After a few minutes, Gawain lifted the protective barrier, nodded to his team, and stepped forward. Sir Byron followed closely, while Amber, momentarily tempted to scrape off a piece of the door's purple steel, decided against it, knowing the metal's hardness would thwart her attempts.
Inside, they found a grand hall, its dimensions vast and rectangular. Four large doors marked the cardinal directions, each sealed tightly. Here, the vault's treasures lay undisturbed, meticulously organized and shielded by enchantments that had preserved them through the ages.
The hall's sealed environment, along with the arcane inscriptions covering the walls, had protected the artifacts from decay. Rows of metal ingots, crystals, weapons, armor, and large crates filled the room, all carefully arranged and remarkably well-preserved.
Gawain approached one of the crates, wedging the blade of his sword into the gap. With a firm push, he pried it open, revealing a gleaming pile of coins and neat stacks of violet-hued crystals—the military crystals of the Gondor Empire.
The coins, though valuable, were not as significant as the crystals.
The Gondor Empire's advanced magical technology once dominated the continent, relying on the mana from the Deep Blue Well to fuel incredible innovations. With an almost limitless supply of magical energy, even average mages could contribute to remarkable advancements, allowing Gondor to achieve what other nations deemed impossible: the mass production of enchanted arms.
In modern Ansu, enchanted weapons were rare, reserved for nobility or high-ranking officers. Yet in Gondor's prime, even common soldiers were issued a basic enchanted sword and a military crystal.
These military crystals, about the size of a thumb, were small but potent. Each was pre-loaded with basic spells—a shield spell and an explosive spell—that could activate automatically. The crystals had an internal system to identify friend or foe, activating a shield upon impact and emitting a warning as the shield weakened. When thrown, the crystal would detonate once it reached a safe distance, creating an explosion that left friendly forces unharmed. To Gawain, it was astonishing that such sophisticated magic had once been available to common soldiers.
These crystals had been left behind only because they were too heavy to transport in large quantities. The expeditionary force had taken every other high-value item they could carry, abandoning these crystals as a last resort.
Gawain picked up one of the crystals, feeling its faint magical resonance. This was a relic from a time when magic had been as abundant as sunlight, a time when even ordinary men wielded power beyond imagination. It might have provided a path toward making magic accessible to the masses, but without the Deep Blue Well, such a vision was unattainable. Each crystal was precious, a fragment of Gondor's lost era.
At least for now, these crystals would serve as the foundation for Cecil's defense
.
Gawain carefully placed the crystal back, then turned to address his team, his gaze filled with purpose. "These resources aren't just relics from a forgotten age. They're tools to build a new future. This vault is more than a treasury; it's a bridge to reclaiming our legacy."
Rebecca nodded, her expression reflecting the gravity of his words. "With these supplies, we could establish a foundation that will last for generations."
Amber, unable to hide her excitement, looked around with a gleam in her eye. "So this is the famous treasure vault. Not bad. Not bad at all."
Sir Byron moved to inspect a rack of weapons, each one inscribed with ancient runes that glowed faintly. "These weapons… they're as powerful as anything we have now. They'll be invaluable for defending the territory."
One item, a large, intricately designed map on the wall, drew Gawain's attention. It was a detailed chart of the mountain region, showing trails, landmarks, and mineral deposits, along with detailed defenses and other critical resources. To him, it was more than a relic; it was a strategy, a plan for survival and growth.
"This map will be invaluable. With it, we can navigate this land and use its resources to their fullest. It's a blueprint for rebuilding our foundation," Gawain said, his voice steady with determination.
With their new resources secured, Gawain's team carefully selected what they could carry. Each artifact, coin, and crystal was more than just a treasure; it was a piece of their family's renewal, a tool to shape the future they were building.
As they exited the vault, the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, illuminating their path. The mountain loomed behind them, a quiet sentinel watching over their progress. Yet the new day filled Gawain with purpose.
They had not merely reclaimed remnants of the past—they had unlocked the means to forge a future worthy of their legacy. With these resources and knowledge, the Cecil family would rise once more, prepared to confront any challenge that lay ahead.