Staring into the pitch-black mouth of the cave, Laeral arched one elegant eyebrow. "Davis really went through a lot of trouble. The guy didn't know the first thing about magic, but he still managed to build himself such a complicated treasury."
John Davis—former City Lord of Liberl Port. He once promised the people "Liberl Port's economy would prosper forever," but after the fall of the Empire of Sein, he sold off the city's rights to major multinational conglomerates for his own gain, turning the city into a broker for corporate interests and the very definition of a comprador metropolis.
At that moment, Laeral's tone was light, as if chatting casually with a friend. But beside her, Vajra—facing this demigod-level woman—didn't dare relax for a second. "Maybe it was precisely because he knew his own limitations that he leaned so heavily on magic for security."
Laeral glanced at a visibly tense Vajra. Suddenly, she asked, "So that's why he promoted you—to serve as Blackstaff?"
Vajra immediately stiffened, taking a deep breath before answering, "My only duty from the beginning has been to defend the city."
It was an answer that barely fit the question, but Laeral just smiled slightly and didn't push. "Let's head in and see for ourselves—I'm curious to see how Davis's taste holds up."
Vajra stepped forward. "I'll lead the way."
Laeral accepted, and the two—perhaps the most powerful spellcasters in the material plane—walked side by side into the darkness.
Passing through a corridor walled with mortar, they soon arrived at a downward-sloping passage. The sides of the corridor were marked with massive murals, glowing gently with magic light.
Anyone lacking firm willpower or the ability to resist psychic magic would fall into an immediate trance just by looking at those murals, compelled to turn around, exit the treasury, and wake up somewhere out in the wilds after twenty-four hours—assuming they hadn't been eaten by ogres or worse.
These were just a few of the many traps Davis had set to protect his treasury. This was exactly why Charles hadn't wanted to venture inside—there were too many dangers hidden in here, far beyond his current level to handle.
Of course, such threats were barely worth noting to these two archmages. Vajra and Laeral Silverhand ignored the enchanted murals, strolled down the corridor, dispelled the arcane wards at the end, and entered the heart of the treasury—a grand, splendid hall.
"Whoa." Even Laeral Silverhand, with all her experience, couldn't help letting out a breath of awe. "This Davis… sure, I knew he was greedy. But seeing his treasure hoard in person, I realize I genuinely underestimated him."
The entire floor of the vast hall was arranged like a chessboard, divided into countless two-meter black and white squares, with a handpicked collectible on each and every square.
A few examples: Five massive cauldrons, sculpted from gold, silver, brass, bronze, and red copper, each carved with elaborate images of the corresponding metallic dragon species;
A gold-filamented ivory horn cup studded with red gems—most likely a royal sacrificial vessel from an ancient emperor, worth at least ten thousand gold pieces by itself;
A child's sarcophagus painted gold, made from pure white jade, its lid carved with winged angel children, and countless other untold treasures.
On the room's side wall, dozens of gold coins etched with silver dragon heads were embedded in the stone—the famed silver dragon gold, no longer in circulation for decades.
One sweep of Laeral Silverhand's keen eyes, and she instantly calculated the number: 482,376 coins. At the exchange rate from back in the day, that would be five million gold as issued by the Church of the Goddess of Wealth—but with their collector's value now? The price was incalculable.
"What an absurd fortune," Laeral couldn't help but sigh. She turned, catching Vajra's eye. "What're you looking at?"
She'd noticed that Vajra's gaze had been locked on the golden-painted jade child's sarcophagus since they entered the room, never budging.
"Oh, it's just—I remembered something." Vajra shook off her distraction. "Do you recall a few years ago, when House Sulpharlo was convicted of colluding with devils and stripped of their title, the whole family sent into exile?"
"One of the key pieces of evidence was that they had defiled a relic of the Church of the Goddess of Life—specifically, they offered up an angel's child sarcophagus to the devils, destroying its divine power." She remembered this case clearly, having personally joined the investigation and used divination magic to confirm the relic no longer existed.
Now, seeing it here, she realized that was wrong—the relic hadn't been destroyed, just hidden in this treasury, cut off from scrying by the magical wards.
Laeral Silverhand nodded gently. "Of course I remember. I gave the order myself, and it was one of the decisions I most regretted."
She sighed quietly. "As a fellow child of the gods, I could never have imagined they'd do something so terrible."
Most nobles nowadays were descendants of the saints who had once walked the world, or at the very least distant kin to some angelic ancestor.
To them, Laeral Silverhand—as a demigod herself—naturally felt a bond, unable to believe they'd fall so far, and loathe to publicly condemn any of their bloodline.
But then Vajra stepped forward, crimson eyes locked on the angel child's sarcophagus. "But if the true relic is here, does that mean the verdict against House Sulpharlo…"
Laeral's heart skipped. She hadn't noticed the aura of divine power now radiating from the sarcophagus—and Vajra had sensed it first.
That meant her Perception had dulled even more than she'd realized—a worrying sign.
But she kept her composure, face grave, nodding, "It does. Looking back, a lot of the details surrounding Davis's case never held up under scrutiny—same for the Sulpharlo verdict. Messy business, the lot of it."
She let her gaze fall on the sarcophagus. "This was my mistake. Clearly, a great number of the Sulpharlos' supposed crimes may have been nothing more than trumped-up charges."
Vajra shook her head. "It's not your fault, my lord. When you first arrived in Liberl Port, you were new to its politics and easily deceived. It's only natural."
"All we can do now is set things right—clear the records of the falsely accused, bring the true conspirators to justice, and restore honor to the victims."
She let out a long breath, finally relaxing after her earlier anxiety about this meeting, feeling as if her relationship with the Open Lord had just deepened a step.
To her surprise, Laeral Silverhand's expression grew dark and ambiguous. Instead of agreeing, she offered only a vague reply: "We'll deal with this later."
With that, she stepped forward, began chanting silently, cast a demiplane on the spot, and moved each of the precious artifacts in one by one.
Watching Laeral's now-obviously cold demeanor, Vajra couldn't help but wonder.
What just happened? Did I say something wrong?
Why did Laeral get upset when I brought this up?
What Vajra didn't know was that the accusations against House Sulpharlo had come mostly from other noble families. If the Sulpharlos were cleared, would that mean their rivals would also be investigated—would the children of the gods themselves have to answer for their lies?
It was something Laeral Silverhand dreaded. But if the truth came out, she'd have no choice but to act—after all, if so many noble families had truly fallen, letting them run amok would only bring fresh disaster to innocents everywhere.
The two of them walked quietly, a heavy silence stretching out between them. Seeing where this was headed, Laeral finally broke in, changing the subject. "Tell me—was this treasury's key really found by that Nigel Charles, the believer of the Goddess of Life?"
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