Chapter 72
Rumble… Rumble…
The tightly sealed door to the vault began to open.
Having been shut for so many years, a thick cloud of dust billowed out like smoke.
Whoooosh!
A strong wind swept through, sucking the dust into the darkness beyond the door until it vanished.
Everyone’s eyes met—each filled with tension.
Flash!
The moment we stepped through the doorway, a flood of light illuminated our vision.
It was a sight completely different from anything we had seen before.
The smooth, polished floors and walls felt almost futuristic, like something from a far-off era.
From the cracks in the ceiling and walls, a faint glow—resembling fluorescent light—seeped through.
The place felt strange. Alien. And yet, oddly familiar.
I wanted to take a closer look, but there was no time.
[Intruder detected… Eliminate…]
“Graaahhh!”
Something humanoid came charging down the bright corridor toward us.
Its skin was pure white, utterly hairless, smooth like wax.
Faint traces of color in its eyes shimmered with burning rage.
“A person?”
Its appearance—so human yet not—made our group hesitate.
It was one thing to fight monsters, but cutting down something humanlike was another.
“C-Count, what should we do?”
“What do you mean? Sit down for tea and chat?”
“Wh—where!”
Slash!
Priana’s blade, already infused with aura, sliced cleanly through the creature’s waist.
It had charged at us unarmed and naked—so it was easily cleaved in two.
The bisected body fell to the floor, but not a single drop of blood spilled.
Priana shrugged, unimpressed by its weakness.
But that was a mistake. The guardians of an ancient vault weren’t dangerous one by one—it was the numbers that mattered.
“What’s this? They’re weaker than I thought.”
“Grrrk!”
“W-wait!”
Even after being cut in half, the thing writhed, still trying to attack.
Crunch!
Priana stomped its head. Only then did it stop moving.
No blood spattered, but the grotesque scene made Isbart’s brow crease.
Aside from their featureless faces, they looked exactly like humans.
The expression on his face said it all—he wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t just killed a man.
“Urgh…”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’re just… golems. They keep moving until you destroy the core in their heads.”
“I—I see!”
Hearing that, the others’ faces relaxed slightly.
But already, more of the same golems were pouring in through the corridor.
“Grrrgh!”
Their hostility was palpable. There would be no talking this out.
These were enemies to be destroyed, nothing more.
“Hyaaa!”
Islin’s ice spears shot forward, impaling their heads one after another.
Even as countless comrades fell beside them, the golems showed no hesitation.
Their only purpose was to eliminate intruders.
Crackle!
I was the one who brought them here—so I couldn’t just stand back and watch.
I infused mana into the Dragon-Scale Sword. The blade drank it in hungrily, aura swirling around it.
Thrust!
Their weakness was simple—the core in the center of the forehead. Destroy it, and they fall.
My aura blade pierced through a golem’s brow, and the rage in its eyes flickered out like a candle.
Wave after wave came, only to be cut down by the combined onslaught of the three of us.
Islin’s orb of magic endlessly produced ice spears.
Priana’s aura blade shattered skulls.
And Isbart…
Ah, right. Maybe I should’ve told him to stay back.
In the novel, Isbart possessed a rank in black magic. He wasn’t just clever—he could fight.
I’d forgotten that, in this timeline, she wasn’t technically a combatant.
“Wormy! Roll!”
Vwoooom!
“Kraaaagh?!”
At Isbart’s shout from the rear, the giant worm thrashed its body violently.
The golem that had slipped past the front line was crushed flat beneath it.
Guess I worried for nothing.
She’d only had the giant worm for a short while, but she already handled it well. Thanks to her, none of the golems escaped.
[Security Level… Increasing…]
As the number of golems dwindled, a mechanical voice echoed again—barely audible through the chaos.
“Grrrrhhhhh!”
And then, new golems emerged, changing shape as they advanced.
Their thin limbs thickened, chests broadening and swelling.
“Ugh!”
Priana, who was leading the charge, grimaced.
“Their forms are changing!”
“I can see that.”
Ordinary golems weren’t much stronger than regular men unless ranked.
These new ones were tougher, maybe as strong as a particularly burly adult male—but the problem was their numbers. Endless.
‘We need to stop them at the source.’
To reduce their numbers, we’d have to destroy the device that birthed them.
Hidden in this ancient vault was a defense system—an artifact that generated them.
Ideally, I’d have liked to take it intact. But with this many enemies, that wasn’t an option.
‘A shame… but it’s gotta go.’
“Priana! Duck!”
“…Yes!”
Without hesitation, she ducked low—risky behavior in the middle of a fight, but she trusted me.
Slash!
Taking advantage of the opening she’d made, I leapt high into the air toward the sea of enemies.
Hundreds of golems reached up to grab me midair.
If I landed in their grasp, I’d be torn apart.
“Hnnngh!”
Step!
I pushed off a larger golem’s head and launched myself higher.
From above, the full view of the vault came into sight for the first time.
A vast cavern—impossibly large for something buried underground—crammed wall-to-wall with golems.
‘How horrifying.’
Even after all we’d destroyed, this many remained.
No wonder Count Venner’s entire private army had nearly been wiped out here.
If we fought them all, we’d never be done.
We had to destroy the artifact producing them.
At one end of the chamber stood a massive glass tank.
Its interior was clouded, filled with debris from ages past—but every time the tank opened, another golem emerged.
‘That’s it. The damned replicator.’
As my body began to fall, I drew my sword and took aim at the glass tank.
“Haaah!”
My arm muscles swelled as I threw the Dragon-Scale Sword.
The blade, wreathed in bright blue aura, streaked through the air in a perfect line—
—and struck.
CRACK!
The sword pierced deep into the glass tank, the impact echoing through the cavern.
“Graaahhh!”
I crashed down into the swarm below.
Thud-thud-thud!
The golems mobbed me, but the mana-infused leather armor absorbed the blows.
Soon enough, the assault stopped.
[Bzzzzt…]
“Kh—!”
Sparks crackled across the chamber.
The golems that had been trampling me froze.
…and collapsed, lifeless, like puppets with their strings cut.
Even Dwarven-made armor couldn’t take much more punishment. Good thing it ended when it did.
“Phew.”
“Count!”
The others rushed over, faces pale.
“I thought you were done for!”
“I’m fine. It’s over.”
“R-right…”
Hiss…
Then, before anyone could breathe easy, the fallen golems began to disintegrate—fading away like melting ice.
The others stared, wide-eyed.
I could read their expressions—they wanted answers.
“It’s nothing. They’re disappearing because their function’s complete.”
“If you say so…”
“Then I suppose that’s that.”
Islin shrugged, dropping the matter, and the others followed suit.
“Alright. Let’s see what’s worth salvaging.”
I crossed the chamber toward the shattered glass tank. The others followed, glancing around curiously.
[Bzzzt…]
The Dragon-Scale Sword was still embedded deep in the tank.
Inside, thick cables and wires had burst out like guts.
“What is this…?”
Islin and Isbart approached cautiously, studying it from a distance.
The tank was like a giant fishbowl, filled with an unknown liquid.
The white light pouring from above made the murky fluid glow eerily.
Thick cords wrapped the tank like veins, now severed and useless.
Click.
“Count,” Islin asked, “is this what the vaults of the ancients usually look like?”
“I’ve never been inside one before.”
I wiped the fogged glass with my hand.
Squeak, squeak.
Through the smudged surface, a faint shape came into view.
[……]
‘Found it.’
Floating in the liquid, curled up like a fetus, was a being identical to the golems we’d fought.
A thin hose was attached to its mouth, connecting to the thick cables below.
“…A golem!”
Priana immediately drew her sword.
But the figure inside didn’t move.
“It’s fine. This one can’t fight. Islin, Isbart—come take a look.”
“R-right…”
They leaned closer to the glass.
The figure inside was motionless, eyes closed, body faintly tinged with color.
Unlike the others, its features were perfectly human.
It looked… alive.
“Huh?” Isbart tilted her head.
“What is it?” Priana asked, still wary.
“This person… doesn’t have a rune mark on their left hand.”
“…Huh? You’re right!”
Priana blinked, utterly confused.
To me, it was stranger that everyone else had runes.
In a country where everyone’s missing an eye, the one with both is the anomaly.
From beggar to noble, everyone bore the rune mark on their left hand—believed to be a divine blessing from the Creator God.
No one was born without it.
That was why Blanks were shunned—those who’d lost their left hands, and thus their connection to mana.
To these people, being without a rune was the same as being forsaken by God.
So seeing this being—fully intact, but rune-less—shook them to the core.
“A Blank? No… Blanks lose their left hand. This one’s hand is whole…”
While they puzzled over it, I spoke up.
“Curious, aren’t you? About who—or what—that is?”
“…Yes. We can’t even begin to guess…”
“That thing,” I said quietly, “is the original of those golems. This tank was a copying device. And that body—”
“—is a replica of an Ancient.”
“A-Ancient?!”
“Don’t think too deeply about it. The Church would call it heresy if you did.”
“Ah…”
Priana’s face twisted in half-understanding confusion.
I let her be and reached for the Dragon-Scale Sword embedded in the tank.
……Who… are you
