Chapter 49 - The Birth of a Nation

“Well, that was rather generous of you,” I noted calmly while we made our way further into the massive complex.

Yeah, I couldn’t help but delight in rubbing salt into the wounds of my adversary. So sue me.

Sharinne could definitely see what I was doing, but she still set her teeth and slowly ground out each word, “I gave my word, and an honorable warrior will live and die by it.”

I nodded approvingly, all the while wondering what other massive treasure troves I could swindle out of this poor, deluded lizard who had obviously fallen far, far behind the times.

“Honor?”  I scoffed inwardly.

Don’t get me wrong, I always try my best to keep my promises. It’s one of the reasons why I don’t give them out lightly. However, it’s not out of some misguided sense of honor. What’s the point in that? People out in the real world will stab you just as easily as look at you, should there be a single copper of profit to be made in the process. Let’s face it, most of our so-called civilized society is only kept “civilized” by the open and severe application of punishment. After all, have you seen the mass riots and unrest that will instantly spring into life whenever there’s the perception that yes, you can get away with pillaging and looting at will? It’s like the festering boils on the backside of society finally exploding, showing you what’s really going on behind all that perfumed, powdered veneer.

Me, I just keep things simple. I give my word and I keep it, simply because if you don’t there’s usually a much messier aftermath to deal with. Lies will eventually catch up to you and bite you in the ass.

Sharinne, though, she struck me as the type to foolishly hang on to the last crumbling remains of her honor, even though the whole institution lay floundering in the storm of the times. It’s sink or swim, and useless dead weights like chivalry and honor, they would happily drag you to the bottom of the roiling seas of humanity, never to be seen again. That’s where they will keep you cold comfort, at the bottom of the ocean, feeding the scavenging predators who flock to such generous feasts.

Me, I was just along for the ride. That, and to see just how many more goodies I would scam out of this dinosaur.

As we steadily made our way down long, lavishly decorated hallways and through grand arching doorways, Sharinne didn’t bother to engage in smalltalk, and I wasn’t much inclined to disagree. I mean, we had just tried to kill one another, and while I had only walked away with a broken arm and a few scratches, Sharinne looked like a war vet who had signed on for far too many suicidal campaigns for her own good.

It can’t be fun to be handing out your family heirlooms to the bastard who had just poked out your eye, now can it?

Of course, I did my very best to be helpful, candidly offering such helpful remarks as, “Do you ever find your wings clipping the edges of these low arches, well back when had wings, that is?” or “Watch your step in this hall, it must be hard to orient yourself with only one eye when the lighting is this dim.”

Shia would hiss and cough in outraged protest after each of these remarks, but I am a mere mortal, and those of us who are not born into the vaunted position and status of a fancy Keeper of the Shrine of Crimson Farts, well we are forced to find our own saucy amusements to keep us occupied.

At long last, just when I thought Sharinne would finally blow her top and revert into her dragon mode, and honor and oaths be damned, we at last arrived at a massive door with many arcane sigils inscribed around its edges. They shimmered with power as Sharine lifted her one good hand and traced various mysterious symbols in the air.

“Shia,” I whispered under my breath. “Make sure you get all this. We might want to pay a late night visit, later on when poor Sharinne is resting from her exertions.”

“You mean we should rob Sol’s forebear blind the moment her back is turned?” Shia protested primly in my mind.

“Yeah, kind of like what you did back at the Hall of Knowledge, only a little bit more delicately,” I helpfully pointed out, producing the desired effect. Thereafter Shia was very quiet and I was hopeful she would be much more agreeable to my suggestions.

Flashing arcs of light coursed through the door, then the entire corridor seemed to let out a slow, rumbling breath as an invisible layer that I’d previously failed to notice popped like a bubble, and the massive gate began to slowly open by itself.

Damn, I needed to get my hands on some of these fancy automatic doors.

Sharinne stretched forth a hand toward the open door, nodding to me.

I grinned amiably while shaking my head, “After you, of course, our gracious host.”

What can I say? Old habits die hard. Not that I saw the need to change them. I wasn’t stepping into some deathtrap, smiling dragon lady or not.

Sharinne almost rolled her eyes at me, but not quite. She was, after all, the mighty Keeper of the Shrine of the Crimson Snot. She had her status and reputation to think about. Not that she had cared the least bit about those minor concerns when she had been trying to roast me in my own juices, just a couple hours ago.

Sharinne obliged and stepped in first, after which I eagerly followed. What greeted my eyes was a scene straight from your favorite fairy tale. Laid out before me was a vast hoard of glittering piles of gold, generously sprinkled throughout with massive gems and gleaming artifacts that veritably shouted, “Pick me, pick me, I’m a hella expensive trinket you won’t find in your friendly neighborhood dungeon vault!”

The sheer scope of these riches was frankly staggering. The room itself was about the size of a football stadium, and the giant piles of treasures were squeezed in so tightly, there was barely any room to walk, let alone see all of what lay ahead at one glance.

“Wipe the drool off your chin, Mommy,” Shia muttered, sounding as though she were dying of shame.

Hah, as if she hadn’t just pigged out on a whole library’s worth of priceless books. Where had her sense of decorum been then, the little hypocrite.

Still, after catching the smug look of satisfaction and self-vindication on Sharinne’s face, I quickly disciplined my features into a more seemly mask of lofty indifference. A mere mask, of course, but at least I would salvage what little remained of my dignity.

Not that I wouldn’t immediately whore it out for a mere pittance of what lay displayed before my eyes. I wasn’t a money crazed fool, but neither have I ever claimed to be a saint.

Sharinne’s next words seriously made me doubt my sanity though, and I gaped in mute astonishment, all sense of decorum completely shattered and swept away.

“You may now choose from any and all of the treasures and relics contained within this vault. I shall be candid with you, Lord Seth. This is the heritage of thousands of years of our clan’s history, the worthy spoils from countless battles and the rich rewards for our noble deeds. I offer these to you openly, in hopes that you shall assist in guiding our future generation towards higher peaks still. Therefore, please do not hesitate nor feel troubled as you..”

The rest of her speech faltered, then died off as she stared at my quickly receding back, as I shamelessly let out a whooping cry of celebration and dashed forward to claim my well-deserved prize.

Damn, I had struck it rich this time. Truly rich! Scattered in careless piles before me lay endless quantities of gold, precious gems, and enchanted artifacts of all shapes and sizes. There were swords richly embedded with gleaming gems, axes with wickedly sharp edges glowing with faint blood-thirsty auras, chest plates with elaborate engravings and designs that spoke of exquisite craftsmanship and attention to detail.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Sharinne seemed to recover her composure, then called out after me, “I shall give you until the sand runs out in this crystal to choose your prizes as you will. Then we must move on, for time is of the essence.”

Immediately after, she reached out towards an ornate crystal hourglass lying by the entrance.

I halted for a second to look back towards Sharinne. Surely no dinosaur could be this stupid. “You mean anything and everything I can collect within that timeframe?”

Sharinne nodded back to me with a solemn expression, though her eyes held yet another hint of disdain in them while they glanced around at the massive hoard around us. “Just how much do you think you can carry out with you in such a brief time, little manling?” her look seemed to ask.

Heh, a lot more than you can afford to lose, overgrown snake.

“Shia,” I mouthed, staring at the dizzyingly high piles of loot strewn about, nearly reaching the roof. I didn’t dare speak too loudly here, lest an errant shout of joy cause one of these mountains of gold to topple over, crushing the life out of me under its golden embrace.

Then again, I suppose there were worse ways to die.

“I estimate the time to be around 15 minutes. You want to me classify and prioritize the priciest artifacts and gems here? First of all, gold is not readily portable,” Shia began, and though I approved of how quickly she was starting to pick up on my line of thinking, my poor young child was still too green in the business.

“Wait. It seems a pity to rush in so thoughtlessly when our hostess is being so generous. We wouldn’t want to seem unappreciative of her largesse. Sharinne did mention something about magical storage devices earlier. What do you know of those?” I observed.

“Oh? Hmm. Let me see. According to the Index Arcana of Magical Curios and Artifacts, Chapter 12 on page 342, magical storage devices come in various shapes and sizes. They may be as simple as a sack enchanted to reduce the weight of any items placed within, to truly mighty artifacts of potent magic which are able to tear open small rifts in the fabric of space and time, granting access to their own exclusive pocket dimension where items may be stored regardless of their weight.”

“Can you identify any such within this vault?” I asked hopefully.

“I can give it a try as I have a highly developed awareness of magical auras, but there is just too much magical noise here. Also, identification of magical items is rather simple, but it requires a specific technique to channel external magical power. I don’t have access to such yet,” Shia began, and my eyes dimmed with disappointment.

“However, I did eat an ancient ledger book titled “Ancestral Registry of Heroic Deeds and Relics”, an extensive record of most of the treasures contained within the Clan of the Crimson Flame’s Hall of Relics,” Shia finished with a wicked giggle, and I didn’t know whether to kiss her or rap a smart knuckle against her figurative head. “It’s a very handy little book. It even comes with detailed descriptions and illustrations of every notable artifact.”

“Hmm. I assume you’re cataloging all these treasures around us as I’m moving,” I whispered back, elated.

“Really Mommy? You need to even ask?” Shia retorted, sounding almost offended.

“Just checking, my dear. Just checking. Remember we are under a deadline.”

“As if I need the reminder, hmmph!” As if to punctuate her words, a small clock started to tick down in the corner of my vision: 14:23 and counting.

“Wait! Here Mommy! I can sense a strong space-time magic aura buried under this pile on the left. No, not there, on your other left. Gah, here, follow the shiny arrow,” Shia muttered helplessly, and for once I didn’t mind at all as I dug frantically, carelessly throwing aside pearls the size of oranges and rubies and emeralds as big as quail eggs. Grrr, why was there so much junk in here?

“There! The silver ring. Not that one, the other one! The one with the sinewy silhouette of the eagle coiling all the way around. I said eagle, not chicken! Just follow the arrow, will you Mommy?”

There were dozens of rings contained in the chest Shia had me open, but I finally picked out the right one. It seemed rather ordinary at first glance, but when I put it on according to Shia’s instructions, a faint electric tingle ran through my finger as I bound the magical ring. Thereafter, merely by focusing my attention on the ring, I could feel the strange awareness of a pocket space that comprised a perfect cube of exactly 9 feet on all its sides.

“How do you operate this thing?” I asked, looking back to the other rings contained within the chest.

“You must mentally command the ring to open its rift, which will allow you to place or remove any item within the space. As you become more proficient with its use, you will naturally be able to employ it more fully, but for now-”

“It will do,” I finished, as I commanded the ring to open with a loud mental shout. Obediently, a shimmering edge of faintly distinguishable light came into being right under the chest. All I had to do was push it, and the entire chest simply slid through without any further difficulties.

Hell, I could get used to this.

“Alright! Moving on, I want you to prioritize the strongest magical auras, followed by more spacial storage artifacts, and lastly I want you to evaluate and select the most effi-”

“The most efficient value-to-size items, right? Already way ahead of you Mommy. Follow the blinking arrow of happiness,” Shia gurgled, and I happily obliged.

“Here, hold it up so I can see it. The lower corner matches.. Yes! That’s “Aramark’s Bulwark of the Fallen”, an enchanted shield granting bonuses to defense, strength and stamina. It also provides a morale boost to nearby troops who are within sight of the shield, granting them increased resistance against mind attacks and increased health, mana and stamina regeneration!”

“Wait, over there in the corner! That’s the “Heaven and Earth Staff of Dominance”. It increases your intelligence and wisdom, as well as granting an aura that aids in reducing the casting time of spells up to the 4th circle!”

“Grab all those coins! They’re ancient Traylelion dynasty seals! According to Annotated History of the Western Marshlands, each one is considered a priceless historical relic, highly sought after by collectors and historians! They’re worth a thousand times their weight in gold!”

“Hurry up Mommy! Dig faster! The pommel of this axe matches the description of the legendary “Waraxe of Karaz-Athul”, which not only grants significant boosts to its wielder’s strength and stamina, it also has the unique power to cast a unique spell called “Path of the Slaughterer”. It replenishes the caster’s health while draining the vitality of all enemies within a 15 feet radius!”

In the end, I ended up with so many bags, rings, necklaces, backpacks and other assorted items of storage, that I began to simply shoulder-charge entire piles of shining valuables, directly tumbling them through the gaping rifts of several rows of storage type items opened next to each other.

“Mommy, you’re a beast!” Shia clamored excitedly at the sight of such a huge pile of valuables simply vanishing into thin air.

“Heheh, no sweat,” I replied, while brushing a hand against my forehead, where countless beads of perspiration were trickling down into my eyes.

“No, I mean that by regular standards, a single person may only operate one, or at most two such magical storage devices. It’s theorized it has something to do with the consciousness being too frail to split into separate dimensions. However, you’re able to operate up to 8 of them all at the same time!”

“Heh, bullet-proof soul..” I wheezed, moving on to the next pile. “At your service.”

In truth, what had begun as a golden opportunity to get a real headstart in my campaign to wage war upon the gods had slowly devolved into a frenzied looting spree, madly cavorting from precious relic to priceless artifact, all the while beginning to gather a smashing headache in my temples.

All the while Sharinne stood in silent vigil, her trembling fist glowing faintly with a sporadic burst of involuntary flames while her face grew paler by the minute, as I swiftly and efficiently divested her precious Hall of Relics of many of the articles it was named after.

The final count by the time the last grain of sand hit the bottom was 8 storage devices of various sizes and power, 34 swords, 19 axes, 13 spears, 15 staves, 9 bows, 16 daggers, 4 crossbows, 64 armor pieces of various types and sizes, 17 shields, and countless rings, necklaces, earrings, brooches, pendants and other assorted artifacts. All the gold and gems that got sucked into the bargain, well, those were just the icing on top of the cake.

With this kind of capital, I would be able to resurrect my Ghost Army from the dead. I had collected enough precious gems and gold on the side that I could afford to buy my own nation. I would resurrect the ancient Kingdom of Korendur from its ashes, or just create my own mercenary nation if it came to that. Recruiting generals would be the hardest part, for which I would need to round up the old crew. Zephyr with his peerless mind for figures and tallies would make a perfect quartermaster, if I could stick someone like Kyren to look out for the inevitable tendrils of corruption that would sprout - else they’d rob the poor merchant-turned-priest blind.

Yes, I had already laid quite the decent foundation for an army. I would raise the banners of a new immortal, seeking to ascend to the peak of the heavens and strike down whatever godlings stood in my way.

This was only the beginning.

The birth of a nation.

The beginning of the end.