■ The Cursed Demon Sword □
After breakfast with the Demon King’s family, I followed the butler Seneca to the treasure vault of the Demon King’s Castle.
“This is the warehouse where the collections of past Demon Kings are stored,” said the goat-headed butler, stopping in front of what appeared to be an ordinary room that one might easily overlook if not paying attention.
“Is this the entrance?” I tilted my head, surprised by its unassuming appearance. Seneca then unlocked the door with a key that looked as if it were made of obsidian.
“As the saying goes, if you want to hide a tree, hide it in a forest. The most ordinary entrance is often the hardest to find,” he explained.
His words made sense. Even if there were a thief bold enough to rob the Demon King’s treasure vault, hiding the entrance like this would make it nearly impossible to even attempt.
“Moreover, the entrance here is only visible to those who are qualified.”
Click—
As the door opened and we stepped inside, a scene that defied common sense unfolded before my eyes.
“This is…” I looked around the vast warehouse in astonishment. Seneca, with a calm voice, began to explain.
“The 2nd Demon King, Tiberius, was a powerful mage from the Dragon Tribe. He personally created this treasure vault to store his wealth, hid the entrance with magic, and entrusted the key to my great-grandfather.”
After a brief explanation, Seneca walked through the vault, slowly detailing its contents.
“This space holds the relics, collections, and artifacts left behind by past Demon Kings. Over 800 years, it has been filled to the brim, to the point where even I, the keeper, cannot fully grasp its extent. And now, your task is to select just one treasure to take with you.”
Listening to him, I activated my elemental vision to scan the surroundings.
Every item here radiated immense magical power. Some were ancient artifacts that could easily belong in a museum. Honestly, the sheer density of mana was making me slightly dizzy.
I quickly deactivated my elemental vision and looked around with my normal sight. By consciously blocking the mana flow to my optic nerves, the dizziness subsided.
Taking a deep breath, I crossed my arms and pondered.
“Just one, huh?”
In a way, it might be the cruelest thing to say. To have so many treasures before me and be allowed to take only one. It was enough to trigger extreme indecision.
First, I asked the most important question.
“Are all the treasures categorized?”
“Yes. Fortunately, they are. The 2nd Demon King, Tiberius, strictly enforced rules, stating that treasures should not be piled up indiscriminately, as they would then become mere junk.”
It seemed Tiberius, being a dragon, was extremely meticulous about his treasures.
In any case, it seemed I would benefit from this, so I said to Seneca, “Then, please guide me to the section where weapons are stored. My original purpose was to find a new weapon to replace my staff.”
Indeed, there were countless treasures tempting me from the entrance, but what I needed most right now was a new weapon.
My old staff had been broken beyond repair, so I had turned it into a mask and used it as a memento. That was already over a month ago.
I had been wandering around bare-handed, too lazy to find a new weapon, but now was the time to look for one. After all, a mage’s equipment plays a significant role in their capabilities.
“Oh…”
Following Seneca, I entered a massive section. From one end to the other, as far as the eye could see, artifact-level weapons were lined up.
The place was filled with items that were anything but ordinary. In this space filled with treasures whose value couldn’t be measured in money, I began to search for the one weapon I would take.
‘First, I’ll exclude polearms.’
No matter what, weapons that are too long are just inconvenient. This was something I had painfully learned during my travels. Carrying something large and constantly getting it caught on doorways was annoying.
So, I consciously avoided looking in that direction. Fortunately, even excluding polearms, the number of weapons in the vault was staggering, so narrowing it down wouldn’t make much of a difference.
‘If possible, I’d like something like knuckles or gauntlets.’
After all, my favorite weapons are my fists and legs. Maximizing their destructive power wouldn’t be a bad idea.
When I mentioned this to Seneca, he immediately understood and led me to the section where such weapons were stored.
Thanks to him, I was happily humming a tune while choosing a weapon when…
“Choose me, human.”
A strange voice suddenly echoed.
“Huh?”
Wondering what was happening, I looked around. But the only ones in the warehouse were me, Camilla, and Seneca.
Thinking I might have imagined it, I was about to continue choosing a weapon when the voice spoke again, much more intensely this time.
“Take me out of here, and I will grant you infinite glory.”
It wasn’t a mistake. I put down the silver knuckles I was holding and looked around.
Then, my gaze fell upon a certain sword. It was the kind of sword that seemed to draw the viewer’s gaze.
I asked Seneca, “What’s that sword?”
Seneca shook his head, seemingly unaware. “As I said earlier, even I don’t know the history of every item in this vault.”
Nodding at his words, I slowly approached the sword that inexplicably drew my attention.
The blade was a silvery-gray, densely inscribed with runes. Despite what must have been years of neglect in the vault, not a speck of dust had settled on it.
I noticed something written on the scabbard next to the sword. Unlike the pristine sword, the scabbard bore the marks of time, resembling an antique. Carefully lifting it, I read the inscription.
“Stormbringer?”
Literally translated, it meant “one who summons storms.” It was a name that coincidentally matched my nickname, the Storm Mage.
Intrigued, I put down the scabbard and grasped the sword’s hilt.
At that moment, I felt something foreign interfering in my mind.
“Kuhahahaha! Foolish human! Now your body is mine!”
“Cut the crap.”
I immediately severed the flow of the foreign mana.
“What?!”
The voice in my head sounded panicked. Ignoring it, I showed the Stormbringer to Seneca.
“This is an ego sword.”
“Oh… is that so?”
Whoever it was, they were quite malicious. To immediately try to take over the user’s body upon being wielded—this was a landmine of a weapon. Perhaps that’s why it was stored here.
Still, the weapon itself didn’t seem bad. If my eyes weren’t deceiving me, this Stormbringer was made entirely of orichalcum.
Honestly, with so many weapons in the vault, I was almost paralyzed by indecision. But this turned out to be a good thing. I felt a sense of destiny in the name “Stormbringer.”
“Uh, sir? I was wrong earlier. How about choosing a different weapon?”
The ego embedded in the sword spoke in a hurried, polite tone, as if sensing my dangerous nature.
But I had no intention of letting this arrogant brat off the hook.
“No, I won’t let you off. You’re mine now.”
As I conversed with the sword’s ego and glanced at Seneca, he nodded slightly, giving his approval.
This was final.
“You will be punished for your insolence and die a painful death.”
“Huh? 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 the weapon I would use. It would just be noisy, and I could do without it.
So, I planned to melt the sword down and use the ingot to create other equipment. With this much weight, I could make a set of gauntlets for myself and still have some left over.
“Sir! Please! I was wrong! Please spare my life…”
I no longer felt the need to listen to its pleas and sheathed the sword. Perhaps due to a special spell, the chatty ego in Stormbringer fell silent as if dead.
Satisfied, I nodded to Seneca and suggested we leave. He looked at me as if I were some rare specimen, then led the way to the exit.
It had been a satisfying shopping trip.
