“Well?” Asher asked.
Nereus cleared his throat of some imaginary phlegm before speaking. “This right here is the [Eternal Bazaar]”
“...”
Nereus continued beaming at the room, staring expectantly at them.
“...And what does–”
“No clue.”
“So why are you smiling like that?” Asher asked in annoyance. His excitement at securing the treasure dimmed a few degrees.
Over the years since the Realm of Grothluk’s Demise had been attended by Greendale cultivators, various odds and ends had been retrieved, touted as treasures. Some of the items had turned out to hold significant value. However, some needed countless Essence stones to be spent for their purpose to be determined. The thing was, some of these treasures turned out to be duds. There were horror stories of some smaller noble Families going bankrupt after investing the majority of their holdings into the possibility of a big payday. It really was a hit or miss endeavor.
That was why the Duskflame Patriarch had made it clear to every Trial year’s chosen, to focus on obvious Treasures. Or in his case, something extremely suited to the Family’s techniques - like the [Blazing Armor].
“Because, I still get paid for the translation!” Nereus responded to his question. Asher felt cheated, but he had given his word. And he would not break his honor for the likes of Nereus.
“Fine. So who shall be retrieving the Treasure?”
The room quieted and everyone looked at one another. Ren had a suspicion who would be used as the scapegoat and like magic, four sets of eyes eventually landed on him. Nereus had his hands crossed and Asher looked absolutely bored.
“I am honored by your faith in me. I truly am. But I have the lowest cultivation in the room. I might not make it past the ward and into the treasure chamber.” Ren looked each of them in the eye before continuing. “And even if I did, the wards might damage the Treasure on the way ou–”
A Peak-grade Interspatial Necklace gracefully soared into Ren's hands, abruptly halting his excuse.
Interspatial Necklaces, renowned as unmistakable status symbols in the World of Vulcan, were not commonly available to the masses. Reserved for the wealthiest and most influential individuals, their extravagant cost far exceeded that of an Interspatial Ring, which could offer comparable storage space at a fraction of the price.
These rare artifacts rarely made appearances in public sales. The last time one had graced the auction block in Greendale, it had fetched a staggering sum of Two Thousand Peak Essence Stones, equivalent to an astronomical Twenty Million Low Essence Stones. Such a price tag ensured that the average citizen could only dream of owning one.
Ren's fingers closed tightly around the artifact, his mind momentarily stunned by the sheer opulence on display. The casualness with which the nobleman had entrusted him with the Necklace spoke volumes about the perceived lack of threat Ren posed. It was the validation he sought, a confirmation that his act had succeeded in concealing his true intentions. Yet, a flicker of indignation burned within him, gnawing at his pride. To be dismissed so effortlessly stung, even though it was precisely what he had aimed for.
As his fingers traced the intricate contours of the exquisite necklace, he glanced up to find Asher glaring at him, prompting him to suppress his impending complaint. Swallowing hard, he positioned himself near the flickering barrier, preparing to leap into the treasure chamber during a momentary lull. However, just as he was about to make his move, a forceful foot landed on his back, propelling him forward. He staggered through the ward, escaping the reforming barrier by an uncomfortably small margin. Spinning around, he shot an irate glare at the grinning Nereus.
“Oops,” the man was completely unrepentant. “Thought I’d give ya some encouragement, with ma foot.”
Ren’s fingers flexed on the hilt of his Knife. He knew he stood no chance in a fair fight with the Tier 8 Cultivator. However, when had Ren ever preferred fighting fair? He focused on restraining his killing intent from spilling out, while he worked out a rough draft of taking the man out. Some of his intent must have escaped because he saw the annoying man’s grin widen a smidge. Ignoring him, Ren turned around and slowly circled the altar.
On this side of the barrier, he had expected the pressure from the Orb to increase exponentially. Surprisingly, there was no significant difference in the spirituality it exuded. It still felt heavy, and the space around it bent slightly to the naked eye. Apart from that, Ren could feel no other changes. After making a few revolutions around the Orb of the [Eternal Bazaar] without triggering any traps, Ren turned his attention to the shelves full of softly glowing parchments.
He walked up to one and picked it up examining it.
“What is that?” Asher called from the other side.
“...glowing parchment?” Ren replied cluelessly.
“Of course it is,” the mustachioed Noble snorted. “You know what? Just send them all into the Necklace and grab the Orb. We do not have much time”
Ren moved his perception into the Interspatial Necklace and was astounded at the space it contained. He felt like he was in a massive hangar capable of housing dozens of aircrafts. A portion of the space within the Necklace had some treasures already, but their image was obscured to his senses. He instinctively felt like these treasures required a specific bloodline to view or retrieve. Amazing! His inquisitive mind was pleased to learn something new about the capabilities of high-end Storage Artifacts.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Pulling his sight from the Necklace, he moved around the perimeter of the treasure chamber and pulled the glowing parchments into the Artifact. All the while, Asher, Nereus and the other cultivators watched him like a hawk. Ren acted casual as he moved across the room and the moment he felt his body obscure the view from the entrance, his fingers moved swiftly, sending a few parchments up his sleeves. Ren considered this as his labor fee.
When he had stored all the parchments in the Necklace, he cautiously approached the altar. Memories of the traps he endured on his way into the Vault replayed in his mind, and Ren relished in the feeling. Seeing no reaction, he carefully moved his hand over the Orb. The moment his hands touched the Orb, he sent it into the Necklace. At least he tried to but the [Eternal Bazaar] resisted. Ren pitted his willpower against the Orb and after a few seconds, convinced the necklace to swallow the treasure.
Running his perception into the dimensional space within the Artifact, Ren was shocked to see the Orb had broken the shelf he had placed it on, and now rested on a dented piece of flooring within the Necklace. Well, that was not his problem.
Jumping back through the flickering ward was easier this time around and Ren returned without much fanfare. The moment he arrived, Asher retrieved his Storage necklace and hung it around his neck. Wasting no time, he spun around and walked back to the archway housing the [Blazing Armor].
Nereus playfully winked at Ren before joining Asher in extracting artifacts from various storage rings. They proceeded to arrange these items and engage in discussions about cultivation principles that surpassed Ren's comprehension. Nonetheless, he set his system to record everything: their voices, expressions, and gestures. He hoped that he could review these recordings later and gain a better understanding of the conversation.
Meanwhile, Ren carefully surveyed the octogonal room, taking note of the positions of the Nobles and Duskflame guards. With a swift glance, he calculated the likelihood of successfully escaping while Nereus and Asher remained engrossed in their task. His attention shifted to the main door, contemplating whether it had a functioning lock that he could use to his advantage.
Thus far, he had skillfully navigated his way out of the potential disaster of battling the Nobles and their entourage. He had even managed to acquire an expensive-looking ring from Nereus, along with seven glowing parchments. It wasn't a substantial haul, but it was better than leaving empty-handed. Still, it irked him that he couldn't obtain more.
Testing the waters, Ren took a small step, only to be met with a sharp gaze from one of the Duskflame Cultivators. Figures. Despite their seemingly relaxed demeanor, he was now certain that he was under close surveillance. Ren offered a weak smile and gestured toward the round table positioned at the center of the room. The man nodded but maintained his watchful gaze on Ren. With no other furniture available, Ren hoisted himself onto the stone table.
As one Duskflame Cultivator continued to observe him intently, the other focused on examining the remaining archways. He halted in front of the arch housing the greenhouse.
"Blazing Infernos! A-Are those Seven Clover Frost-lilies?" the man exclaimed, pointing towards the chamber.
Asher paused his conversation and shot the man a stern glare.
"Um, apologies, young master. I was just surprised," the man stammered, clearly taken aback.
"Keep your thoughts to yourself," retorted Asher, his tone firm and commanding. His eyebrow arched as he noticed Ren positioned on the table. "And that goes for all of you." Turning around, Asher resumed his work on the arrays alongside Nereus.
Ren shrugged, embracing the silence and allowing himself to delve deeper into his own body, seeking a better understanding of what Xerxes had done. The first revelation came swiftly—the Demi-God's finger was no longer lodged in Ren's Trachea compartment. All that remained in that space was the ring that once adorned the withered appendage. Delving further, Ren discovered the finger suspended beside his Cultivation core.
The finger floated within a pool of dissolving blood, encased by a solid black film. Something about the film struck a chord of familiarity, though for a moment, Ren struggled to grasp its nature. It seemed to resonate with his own energy, yet distinct in its age and madness. "Ah, that must be Xerxes' soul," Ren pondered to himself. For the next half hour, he observed the appendage floating, rotating slowly on its axis. While his observations yielded limited insight, Ren remained steadfast in his persistence. If Xerxes could accomplish something using his body, Ren believed it was merely a matter of time before he could reverse-engineer it.
The second revelation struck Ren like a bolt of lightning, dispelling the lingering discomfort he had silently endured throughout his interaction with the Nobles. Since their arrival in the room, he had sensed the weight of their cultivation and grappled with the uneasy task of managing their perception of him. It had been an oppressive experience, akin to that of a cornered animal, with his instincts heightened, muscles poised for swift action, and his core itching in anticipation of a potential attack.
It was only now, having discovered a thin whisper of energy connecting the dissolving finger to his core that he noticed the first chamber had somehow been mostly refined! Startled, Ren honed in on his core and the mysterious trickle of energy that had passively been refining his first Core Chamber. Hours of forced Cultivation had been shaved off just like that. The best part to Ren was that he estimated that he would be advancing to Tier 2 Essence at this rate in another twenty minutes!
Suddenly, a resounding blast followed by a startled yelp snapped Ren out of his reverie. He witnessed the earlier reprimanded Cultivator being forcefully propelled backward by an energy discharge from the Greenhouse's protective ward. The man lay twitching on the floor, his teeth clenched so tightly that they rattled in his mouth.
“Magnus!” the other Duskflame guard yelled and rushed towards his incapacitated comrade.
In a flash, Asher stomped the ground, and with a blast of fiery explosion, he intercepted the guard charging towards his fallen brother in arms. “Stop!” commanded Asher, a thin arm wrapped around the guard. “It’s too late for him.”
The guard's eyes briefly blazed with fury, his spirit unresigned to watch his brother in immense pain. In a weird twist of fate, the twitching Magnus soon moved past feeling anything. First his skin turned pale, rapidly changing to an unhealthy gray. Then, his mouth frothed as black spots rapidly appeared across his skin. Within seconds, the black spots transformed into sores and spewed putrid liquids that spawned more spots on every patch of skin they touched.
Faster than thought, the man’s flesh sloughed off his bones and left a sorry sight on the floor. Neerus had moved over, a grim expression on his face as the room was filled with the disgusting gurgling sound of the magical curse continuing its gruesome task. The only other sound in the room was the quiet sobbing of his partner, still being held by Asher.
“I am sorry Vigdus,” Asher spoke in a surprisingly gentle tone, the baritone of his voice expressing his condolence. “Magnus was a good man. And a better friend. I will make sure he is properly honored by the Family.”