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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Xrecker
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After breakfast with the Demon Lord’s family, I headed to the Demon Lord’s treasury, guided by Seneca, the steward.
“This is the vault where the artifacts collected by previous Demon Lords are stored.”
The goat-headed steward stopped in front of an ordinary-looking guest room, the kind you might easily overlook.
“This is the entrance?”
I tilted my head, surprised by its unassuming appearance. Seneca, unlocking the door with an ornate key that looked like it was made of obsidian, explained,
“As the saying goes, the best place to hide a tree is in a forest—likewise, an ordinary facade often conceals what is most precious.”
It made sense.
Leaving aside the question of whether any thief would be bold enough to try and rob the Demon Lord’s treasury, disguising the entrance like this would deter anyone from even attempting it.
“And only those who are qualified can see the entrance.”
Click
He opened the door, and a sight beyond comprehension unfolded before me.
“This is…”
I stared at the vast treasury in awe, and Seneca explained in a calm voice,
“The second Demon Lord, Tiberius, was a Dragonkin and a powerful mage. He created this treasury and concealed its entrance with magic, entrusting the key to my great-grandfather.”
Seneca, walking through the treasury, continued his explanation.
“This vault holds the treasures of past Demon Lords. Accumulated over eight hundred years, the sheer volume is so vast that even I, the vault’s keeper, am unfamiliar with its full contents. And your task is to choose one item to take with you.”
I activated my elemental sight and looked around.
Every item radiated powerful magical energy. Some were ancient artifacts worthy of a museum.
The sheer density of mana made me slightly dizzy.
I deactivated my elemental sight and looked around again with normal vision.
Having cut off the flow of mana to my optic nerves, the dizziness subsided.
I breathed a sigh of relief and crossed my arms, lost in thought.
“Just one?”
It was a cruel dilemma. To choose only one item from this vast collection of treasures.
It was an impossible choice.
I asked the most important question first.
“Are the treasures categorized?”
“Yes. Lord Tiberius established strict rules, stating that treasures piled haphazardly were no different from junk.”
Like any self-respecting dragon, Tiberius, the second Demon Lord, seemed to have been a meticulous collector.
In any case, his meticulousness was beneficial to me.
“Then please take me to the section with weapons. My purpose here is to find a new weapon to replace my staff.”
While tempted by the countless treasures, my priority was a new weapon.
My staff had been broken beyond repair a long time ago. I had turned its remains into a mask as a memento.
That was over a month ago.
I had been fighting barehanded since then, but it was time to find a new weapon.
Equipment played a significant role in a mage’s abilities.
“Oh…”
Seneca led me to a large section of the treasury.
From one end to the other, as far as the eye could see, artifact-level weapons were displayed.
An impressive collection of powerful and valuable items.
I began my search, determined to find the perfect weapon.
“Polearms are out.”
Long weapons were inconvenient. I had learned that the hard way during my travels, constantly bumping into doorways and other obstacles.
I deliberately avoided looking at them.
Thankfully, there were plenty of other weapons to choose from.
“Knuckles or gauntlets would be ideal.”
My preferred weapons were my fists and feet. Something that enhanced their power would be ideal.
I told Seneca my preference, and he led me to the appropriate section.
As I was browsing the selection, humming cheerfully,
“Choose me, human.”
A sudden voice startled me.
“Hmm?”
I looked around.
But there was no one else here besides Camilla, Seneca, and me.
I assumed I had misheard and returned to my search, when the voice spoke again, even stronger this time,
“Release me from this place, and I will grant you infinite glory.”
I hadn’t imagined it.
I set down the silver knuckles I had been holding and looked around again.
My gaze fell upon a sword.
It was a sword that seemed to draw the eye.
I asked Seneca,
“What’s that sword?”
Seneca shook his head, confused.
“As I said before, I don’t know the history of every item in this vault.”
I nodded and approached the sword, drawn to it for some reason.
A silver-grey blade covered in runes.
Despite seemingly having been untouched for a long time, it was spotless, not a speck of dust on it.
I noticed an inscription on the scabbard displayed beside the sword.
Unlike the pristine blade, the scabbard showed signs of age. I carefully picked it up and read the inscription.
“Storm…bringer?”
A fitting name for a sword that supposedly brought storms.
It seemed like a good match for me, the Storm Mage.
Intrigued, I set down the scabbard and grasped the sword’s hilt.
At that moment, I felt something intruding into my mind.
“HAHAHAHA! Foolish human! Your body is mine now!”
“Fuck off.”
I immediately cut off the flow of foreign mana.
“What?!”
The voice in my mind sounded surprised.
I showed the Stormbringer to Seneca.
“It’s a sword with an ego.”
“Oh… is that so?”
Whoever created this sword was malicious. To leave such a dangerous, potentially mind-controlling weapon in the treasury…
Or perhaps it was stored here because it *was* dangerous?
The sword itself seemed quite powerful.
If I wasn’t mistaken, the blade was made of pure orichalcum.
I had been suffering from choice paralysis due to the sheer number of weapons, but this made things easier.
I felt a sense of destiny, drawn to the name “Stormbringer.”
“Um… sir? I apologize for my earlier behavior. Perhaps you should choose a different weapon?”
The ego within the sword spoke, its tone now polite and desperate. It had sensed my… eccentricity.
But I wasn’t about to let it off the hook.
“No, I’m keeping you.”
I looked at Seneca, who nodded in approval.
It was settled.
“You’re going to die a very painful death for your insolence.”
“What?! Sir? What are you talking about? How can you kill me? You’re joking, right?”
“I’m not joking.”
I didn’t need an ego in my weapon. It would only be a distraction.
I planned to melt the sword down and use the orichalcum to create something more useful. There was enough material here to make a set of gauntlets.
“Sir! Please! I was wrong! Spare my life!”
I ignored its pleas and sheathed the sword.
The ego within Stormbringer fell silent, as if silenced by some magic.
I nodded in satisfaction and told Seneca we could leave.
He looked at me as if I were some strange creature, then turned and led the way to the exit.
It had been a productive shopping trip.
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