Overlord Rising - Chapter 4 The Vaul

Uriel said nothing for a while. She sat on the throne in complete silence, her face painted with mixed expressions of confusion and disbelief. It took her time to absorb what she had just been told.

“What?” Uriel eventually uttered, as if she misheard the elf’s words.

Lysander cleared his throat. “According to a few reports, you were burned to death by a dragon,” he explained. Uriel knew this much. “From what we understand, your remains was put in an urn, and placed in your kingdom’s Tomb of Heroes.”

Uriel’s expression shifted a little. She did not expect to be given such a resting place. The Tomb of Heroes was a sacred site only for the highest and most prestigious of persons within the kingdom. Only with the permission of the royal family and court of nobles, would one be allowed to rest there.

Unfortunately, Uriel knew for a fact that she did not exactly have the warmest relation with either of the two. She did share respect of some members, but not many looked at her with favor.

“I see,” Uriel grunted softly. This was quite a bit to take in; both her death and her resting place.

Staring at the floor, Uriel kept her expressions in check. If surrounded by close friends or family, she would have shown some emotions. These elves, however, were more or less still strangers. Her trust was not something she was going to give away quickly.

With a small sigh, Uriel sat up straight. “Has anything significant happened to Grandstark, after my death?” she then asked.

“Your kingdom wasted no time harvesting parts of the dragon you slew,” Lysander answered with a cough. “Every part of it, from the scales down to the last drop of blood, was either used or sold to others.”

“Then I take it that all is well?” Uriel assumed.

“More than well,” Lysander remarked. “Parts of a dragon are extremely valuable, so they made quite a fortune selling it. With what they earned, the financed expeditions into Ebonus, allowing them accumulate even greater wealth. ”

“And what of the neighboring kingdoms?” Uriel asked. “Does this newfound abundance of wealth and power not threaten them?”

“As far as we can tell, Grandstark has maintained healthy relations with its neighboring kingdoms,” Lysander replied. “Your kingdom is living quite peacefully.”

“That’s a relief,” Uriel said, as she slightly sank into the throne. “Now, back to the matter at hand. Are you willing to answer my requests, in exchange for the treasure?”

Lysander crossed his arms. “Under normal circumstances, we wouldn’t even agree to the first one,” he snarled. “However, our options are few, and this trade sounds better than the alternative. On behalf of the empire, I accept.”

“Excellent,” Uriel responded, clapping our hands. “Mycelia, take us to the vault. I am also curious to see what sort of treasure this legendary citadel holds.”

“Understood, my lady.” Mycelia bowed.

Uriel and the elves left the throne room. Passing many long corridors and decadent hallways, they soon arrived at an iron door.

Shivers ran down Uriel’s spine as she gazed at the massive entrance before her. From its daunting height, Uriel estimated it to be at least fifteen feet tall, and was at least five feet wide. For what purpose was this size of this door? Was it meant to simply bring awe and intimidation, or was it meant to accommodate something of this height?

However, the size was not the only thing that caught Uriel’s attention. Like the throne she sat upon, it had a unique design. Relief sculptures of hands and arms reached to what appeared to a cloud of beaming light, as coins rained upon them.

At the very center of the door appeared to a sort of slab with sunken print of a hand. It looked to be of average size. Just about anyone could fit their hand upon it.

Mycelia stepped forward. She placed her hand upon the slab. Nothing happened. Or rather, Mycelia did nothing. Instead, she stood still for a short time, before turning back at the company.

“Is something the matter?” Lysander asked.

“I wish to try something,” Mycelia replied, turning to Uriel. “My lady, would you do the honors?”

“Me?” Uriel asked, pointing at herself. “What should I do?”

“Just place your hand on the slab,” Mycelia replied.

Uriel stepped forward. She gazed at the slab, and then her hand. She then passed a quick glance to the sorceress, who looked on with an eager smile. The instructions given seemed clear, yet vague at the same time. Regardless, she did not linger. Following the directions, Uriel placed her hand on the slab. As soon as her hand touched the stone, Uriel felt something exit her body in a rush, causing her to gasp almost immediately.

Soon, they heard a loud thud, followed by a rusty creak. The iron doors began to slowly open inward, revealing another long corridor for them to travel through. Darkness and shadows filled the corridor, hiding the path ahead of them

“Interesting, very interesting,” Mycelia murmured with a smile now twice as long.

“Was there a point to this?” Lysander asked with frustration.

“There are a few other doors similar to this one, laid throughout Nul Hunur,” Mycelia explained. “However, they can only be opened with magic.”

“Are you saying I can use magic?” Uriel asked with a degree of excitement.

“The Overlord is a master of great power,” Mycelia replied. “I do now know exactly what you are capable of, but you definitely can use magic.”

A weak smile cracked on Uriel’s face, when she heard this. She could use magic? Wizards, sorcerers and sorceresses were a very rare breed in the kingdom of Grandstark. However, magical warriors were an even rarer kind.

If she returned home, she may just be the very first to take the title. She alone could further boost Grandstark’s already growing power and influence. It was an arrogant thought, but there was some truth to it.

“What’s especially interesting is how quickly you managed to open this door,” Mycelia remarked. “It took me two years to build enough power to fully open this door in one try. However, you managed to do so in mere moments. As expected of the Overlord.”

Lysander cast a sharp glare at Uriel. It was neither of hate nor anger, but of frustration. His eyes spotted a threat; one that he could not get rid of. “We need light for this corridor,” he noted, eventually taking his eyes off the new Overlord.

“Allow me,” Mycelia said.

She placed her hands together and uttered an enchantment through an unknown language. It sounded like random letters jumbled together, rather than coherent speech. Light shined through the holes of her visor as she spoke.

Upon reaching the end of her spell, Mycelia’s cheeks puffed and she began to gag. Lysander approached to check on her. Just as he was about to place his hand on her shoulder, Mycelia held her head up and opened her mouth.

Suddenly, a great whisper of moths flew straight out of her mouth. Uriel and the Dark-Elves jumped back when they saw this. Hundreds of these winged insects viciously burst from her mouth, like water ejected from a geyser. They took to the air and fluttered all about.

Uriel could not help, but stare at the winged critters. She had seen moths many times before, but nothing like these ones. They had bodies made of pure light, and made noises that resembled chimes.

As soon as the last moth emerged, Mycelia wheezed and coughed, as if she were trying to regurgitate her own throat. She then finally spat and wiped her lips.

Lysander opened his mouth to speak. “Are you alright?” Uriel beat him to the question.

“I am fine, there is no need to concern yourself, my lady,” Mycelia replied. “Let us continue.”

They travelled through the corridor. The moths acted as their source of light. The sound of their fluttering wings was heard all around them. As the moths hovered, bits of sparkling dust drifted from their wings. It looked almost like crystal powder.

At the end of the corridor, they arrived at the vault. The moths scattered and illuminated the vault. The light had become faint with their numbers spread, but the company could still see to a certain degree.

Uriel’s jaw dropped, when she saw contents of the vault. Treasure stood before her. An ocean of gold and silver lay spread before her, shaped in coins, trinkets, bars, pottery and figurines. They laid in several piles, some towering several feet tall.

The treasure was not limited to just gold and silver, however. Jewels and gems lay within trays and chests, sparkling almost as much as the gold. The wealth seemed endless. Uriel could have spent an entire lifetime in the vault, and she still wouldn’t have finished counting everything.

For a moment, Uriel forgot how to breathe. The magnitude of treasure could only be described as phenomenal. It felt like a hyperbole sung by bards, simply to make their tales more grand. It seemed difficult believe, even with everything right in front of her.

“You’re drooling, my lady Overlord,” Lysander coughed.

“Excuse me,” Uriel snorted. She wiped her lips, but found it dry. She looked at Lysander and saw a triumphant smirk on his face. “How do you plan on find your people’s treasure in all this?”

“Most of our treasure should be kept in chests with the empire’s insignia,” Mycelia replied. “It should be relatively easy to find.”

“Provided that they were not just thrown into the bunch,” Lysander shrugged with some sarcasm.

“Don’t worry,” Mycelia assured. “I already know where a number of cases are. I’ve patrolled this vault many times for intruders.”

“Well, lead the way, Sightless Sister,” Lysander said.

They treaded further into the vault, walking upon mosaic floor that had a number of scattered coins. Along the way, they spotted other forms of treasure. The found sculptures, textiles, fabrics and other items of great value. Many of these treasures appeared to be of different origin.

Before long, the company arrived at one of the many hills of coins. There, they found chests were made from black wood, and framed with intricate silver plates. Small spheres of jade and amethyst were embedded on the plates. Ironically, the chests themselves looked rather valuable. Even if they didn’t contain anything, the chests alone would have fetched a hefty price.

“Open one,” Lysander ordered his men. “We must inspect the contents.”

Two soldiers took one chest, and forced it open, to find coins. Grabbing a handful, the soldiers inspected the coins. They had insignia with a tree of long roots. These seemed different from all the others. Their shine had an alluring touch that caught the eyes, and encouraged greed. It almost felt as if they were possessed, or cursed. Uriel found it difficult to turn away from this chest.

“This is indeed one of ours,” Lysander acknowledged, kicking the chest back shut.

Uriel blinked, snapping out of the trance. Looking at the other chests, Uriel counted about twelve of them. “Do you plan on taking all of these?” she then asked. “Do you have enough wagons to carry them all, and enough men to protect them?”

“We have neither,” Lysander replied. “We will bring whatever we can, and then return for the rest, with more men and wagons.”

“Would you like me to cast a protection charm on these chests?” Mycelia asked.

“If it isn’t too much trouble, it would be very much appreciated,” Lysander replied courteously.

Mycelia shook her head, and then sighed. She then turned to her Overlord. “My lady, this may take some time,” she said. “Feel free to examine this vast wealth you have inherited.”

“I will.” Uriel nodded.

Mycelia bowed and then turned to the first chest.

Uriel took a two steps back, as she watched Mycelia perform magic. On the third step, she turned around, and went off to explore the rest of the vault.

She wandered through hills of gold and silver, only to find more treasure. Uriel saw so much of it that they began to lose their luster. Regardless, she still couldn’t truly believe that a place such as this existed.

She had been to many treasure troves before, but this was beyond anything she had ever encountered. It felt like standing high above the heavens, after having climbed every mountain. The difference between the two was just grand.

Uriel searched high and low for anything that did not immediately remind her of finance. Eventually, something caught her eye. Like almost everything else, it sat above a pile of gold. However, it did not sparkle, or even seem to have any worth.

A large suit of armor quietly stood with its head bowed down. Rust had overtaken most of the suit, like an infesting fungus. Dents and cracks covered the surface of the armor. A great claymore embedded its chest, piercing through the metal hide.

Why was there a decrepit hunk of metal here in the treasury? What value did it have? Judging by the decrepit state it was in, even a wooden staff would have been enough to further damage the armor.

Perhaps it was just a decorative figure: something to scare intruders. If that were the case, then it wasn’t very effective. It could have been worth something to maybe collectors or scrap dealers, but at its current state, Uriel couldn’t really put any sort of price on this standing piece of scrap.

It definitely caught Uriel’s attention, but not for long. Uriel turned to look elsewhere when suddenly.

“Help me”

These words caused Uriel to jump. She looked around, shifting from every direction, searching for the source of the voice. It felt eerily clear, as if someone had just whispered right to her ear. Scanning her surroundings, Uriel spotted the elves inspecting cache treasure. It couldn’t have been them. They were too far away.

Perhaps all this gold was starting to get to her head. She must have been hearing things. With one small breath, she shrugged the voice aside, and continued on her way.

“Help me”

Again, she heard the voice. It remained clear as ever. She turned her head, wondering who called out to her. Then, one possibility came to mind. Slowly, she looked towards the rusted armor that stood amongst the coins.

It remained still and hollow. Nothing seemed to be in it. Despite this, Uriel couldn’t help but ask. “Did you call to me?”

“Yes,” the voice spoke as if it were on its dying breaths.

An empty suit of armor speaking. At first, Uriel thought she was going mad. However, considering all that has happened that day, a talking suit of rust shouldn’t have been all that surprising.

Accepting the madness, Uriel responded. “What help do you need?”

“Remove the pain,” the voice uttered, wheezing sorrowfully. “Free me from my suffering”

Uriel fixed her attention towards the sword within the armor’s chest. While she did not understand completely, she had good guess to what the armor wanted from her.

Reaching out, she grabbed the handle. She fixed her grip and twisted a little. Holding her breath, she focused the strength in her arms and pulled. A loud screech was echoed throughout the vault, as the blade creaked from the chest.

Bits of rust felt off, as a few more cracks opened in the chest. Upon removing the blade, a pair of eyes glowed in the suit’s helmet. Uriel immediately made eye-contact.

Suddenly, images flashed through Uriel’s mind. She dropped to her knees and held her head, as these images ran through her mind, connecting to each of her senses. An array of emotions and senses scoured her mind and body, implanting something within her.

Uriel took a few deep breaths and stared up. The suit of armor stood tall before her. Glowing red eyes gazed straight down upon her, like bits of an inferno.

“My lady!” Mycelia came running to her aid, accompanied with Lysander and a few other soldiers. “Protect her!”

“W-wait!” Uriel gasped.

Her words came too late. Three elves had already attacked. They thrust their spears into the armor, easily punching through the metal. Although they had successfully struck the armor, it didn’t seem to have that much of an effect.

The ancient suit simply stood there, letting out raspy breaths. It did not react to the attack or the additional damage done to its body. Its glowing eyes remained stable and fixed upon the woman who had removed the sword.

“Thank you for your mercy,” it then spoke weakly. ” May you be better than your predecessor”

Slowly, the armor’s eyes faded back into black. Dust fell and dispersed, as the suit of armor fell and crumbled right before them into a mound.