Chapter Six: Treasures

The merit system was something the northern nobles gradually developed to resolve internal disputes. When knights earned merits by slaying enemies, a portion would naturally be allocated to the noble they served. The Vault of Treasures, though jointly established, catalogued every item with a unique provenance and number; when an item was exchanged for merit, the merit would be credited to the noble who had provided that item.

After the nobles joined forces to conquer a tribe or seize territory, they could spend their accumulated merits to increase their share of the spoils. Thus, the Vault of Treasures still held many valuable artifacts.

After several days of travel, the city of Snowfield loomed ahead.

“How odd…” Mike muttered to himself, frowning as he surveyed the surroundings.

Rando, walking beside him out of familiarity, overheard and asked, “What’s odd?”

“We're so close now, yet there are still people harvesting their winter crops? Normally, wouldn't this be finished before the 'Winter Hunt' begins?” Mike pointed to the farmers still toiling in the fields outside the city.

Rando, knowing these crops were unique to the north, replied, “It's only a month late. Is that so strange?”

“A bit. Do you know how the timing of the 'Winter Hunt' is determined?” Mike didn’t wait for a reply. “It’s set right after the farmers finish their winter harvest, when their households are at their wealthiest. That’s what attracts the hungry barbarian tribes to raid them.” He shrugged, as if deciding it wasn’t a matter worth dwelling on.

“I heard that an epidemic of chills has been going around this year. Many farmers have sick family members to care for, so the harvest’s been delayed,” a knight nearby, apparently familiar with the situation, interjected.

“An epidemic?” Rando’s expression changed and he pressed, “A lot of people are ill? Is it the kind that’s easy to recover from, but keeps coming back?”

His curiosity was piqued because his blacksmith friend was suffering from similar symptoms.

The knight hesitated. “I’m not sure about the details.”

“Did you discover something?” Mike asked Rando.

“Not certain. Chills…” Rando’s words trailed off. In his previous life, he knew that after recovering from such ailments, one would usually develop antibodies and not relapse within a week. But how could he say that here? Besides, he suddenly realized things might not work exactly the same way in this world, so he fell silent.

Lier, however, came to his rescue. “Chills aren’t a serious illness. The town I’m stationed near has plenty of white-root grass. With the epidemic, I managed to earn a tidy sum selling it.”

White-root grass was a common northern herb, effective against chills whether eaten raw or brewed into a soup, so most people didn’t think much of such illnesses.

“True. I’ve heard the price of that herb’s gone up lately.”

“Where I’m stationed, it’s scarce, so we have to buy from elsewhere.”

“We never used to bother picking it up when we saw it, but now it's become precious,” someone else remarked.

As the group shifted to other topics, Rando breathed a sigh of relief.

…

“This is the inn where we’ll be staying for the next few days. Go to the Vault of Treasures and exchange for whatever you need. If you don’t know the way, just ask someone. That’s all—dismissed,” Mike announced after booking their rooms, then walked off on his own.

The newcomers looked bewildered, while the veterans had already gone off—no, not to report, but to attend to their own business.

“Rando, you must be itching to visit the Vault of Treasures by now. Want us to show you the way?” Lier asked enthusiastically.

Seeing Lier and Georges approach, Rando expressed his gratitude. “Thank you for your help.”

“No trouble at all—we were heading there anyway,” Lier replied, his smile broadening.

The three of them headed straight for the Vault of Treasures. The building was a massive warehouse, heavily guarded outside.

“Hey, Brad, it’s you on duty this time?” Lier greeted one of the guards, clearly an acquaintance.

“Ha, Lier and Georges! Looks like you’ve done well this time—you’ll have to buy me a drink later!” Brad responded with equal warmth.

“Allow me to introduce you: this is Sir Brad, and this is Sir Rando, a young genius from our territory,” Lier said, making the introductions.

“Ah, Sir Rando—I’ve heard of you. Your name is famous throughout the North: a boy genius who became a knight at just thirteen, rising from commoner to knight in a single year!” Brad laughed, appraising Rando.

Rando was at a loss; he hadn’t realized his reputation had spread so far. “Well met, Sir Brad.”

“All right, drinks are on me tonight. For now, let’s go pick out some treasures—first come, first served,” Lier cut off Brad’s banter, postponing further talk until after the selection.

“Sounds good—see you tonight!”

Bidding farewell to the affable Brad, the trio entered the Vault, where attendants awaited them.

“Let’s split up to make our selections. If you have any questions, just ask the attendant—they’ll accompany you throughout,” Lier suggested.

As the others left with their respective attendants, Rando turned to the one who remained.

“Good day, sir. I am an inventory clerk here at the Vault. While you make your selection, I’ll accompany you. Please ask me anything you wish to know.”

“Let’s walk and talk. This is my first visit—please tell me about any rules or taboos I should know,” Rando replied.

“Of course, sir. The Vault of Treasures was established by the northern lords collectively, mainly for all the knights and warriors of the North. Before each Winter Hunt, the lords replenish the Vault with new supplies to reward those who have fought bravely at the front.”

“Every item here is catalogued and checked nightly. We ask that you refrain from causing us any trouble. There’s a spatial detection device at the entrance—if you’re carrying any spatial items, please let us know in advance to avoid misunderstandings…”

As the inventory clerk went on, Rando couldn’t help but smirk inwardly—truly, there wasn’t a single loophole.

The warehouse was vast, with row upon row of shelves: enchanted weapons, armor, rare ores, processed herbs, finished potions…

“It looks like it will take quite a while to see everything…” Rando thought.

“I’d like to take my time and broaden my horizons—hope you don’t mind if I browse a bit,” he said to the clerk.

“That’s your right, sir.”

They hadn’t walked far when a powerful pull gripped Rando’s heart—a soul he could claim!

Without betraying his intent, he approached a massive skull, nearly two meters tall.

“This is the skull of some ancient beast, the Vault’s most prized treasure. Its value is difficult to determine, but its owner has set an exceedingly high price. Though many knights have shown interest, none have exchanged for it yet,” the clerk explained.