Jackpot (1)
Roy let out a quiet hum as he disabled the building’s defensive barrier first.
He could not afford to waste any more of his precious charms here, so neutralizing it had been the absolute priority. Naturally, the magic circle that formed the barrier was something he had never seen before in his life. Step inside its range, and a powerful current of lightning-attribute force would surge through you.
Lightning magic, huh… Could I manage that?
Lightning magic. Even in his previous life he had only ever heard rumors of it—so rare that not just anyone could wield it. The most he knew was that among large-scale spells requiring multiple mages working in concert, there existed chants capable of calling down thunderbolts. Even those were chant-type magic, far beyond what a single mage could hope to cast alone. That alone spoke to the vast amount of mana it demanded.
But ancient mages might have used it freely. They might have devised spells simple enough for a lone caster. This barrier itself was proof enough.
Among the attributes I possess, lightning should be one of them…
Holding that quiet hope, he recovered the magic stone that served as the barrier’s power source. Not only was its quality exceptional, the barrier magic had been designed to draw on the mana vein itself so that it could operate semi-permanently. It was nothing short of astonishing.
Still, this was hardly the time to sit down and begin studying the magic circle. Roy hurried inside the building the barrier had been protecting.
“…!?”
The moment he stepped through the door he nearly jumped out of his skin. Just how many more times did the mage who built this place intend to startle people? Calming his racing heart, Roy surveyed his surroundings.
The instant he opened the massive door and entered the building, the scene before him changed completely. A garden appeared—one that looked as though a noble with money to burn had poured every ounce of care into cultivating it. This was deep underground, yet the place was bright enough that no extra lighting was needed. He even caught himself lifting his head to look for the sun.
“It’s all magic… What is this? Another barrier? I didn’t sense any mana like that.”
He spun around to check what the outside looked like now. Behind him stretched an endless grassland and horizon. In the middle of that plain stood a single door—the very one he had just passed through. He felt around with his hands to confirm.
“Just as I thought…”
It looked like empty air, yet his fingers met solid wall. Illusion magic. The grassland and garden were only for show; he was still inside the building without a doubt.
Lightning magic, and now illusion magic of this caliber… It’s enough to drive a man mad.
Roy deactivated his Golden Eyes. There was no reason to waste mana in a place this bright.
Illusion or not, it’s not a bad view.
On the far side stood a building that resembled a noble’s villa. Roy headed straight for it.
“Illusion or not, nothing suspicious along the way. At least not yet.”
Before deactivating the Golden Eyes he had confirmed that this direction led unmistakably toward the very heart of the mana vein. The space itself was not distorted. This was still the interior of the underground dungeon. The scenery was merely painted over by magic; it had no substance. Even so, he felt no urge to destroy it. After days spent in the pitch-black underground, his frayed nerves finally felt as though they were healing.
Still, he remained wary of every direction as he carefully opened the second door. It opened without incident.
Except—
“!?”
“Who’s there?”
The sudden voice made Roy scan his surroundings in a hurry. The figure he finally spotted was a young man whose form was unstable and hazy—half-transparent, like a ghost, the background clearly visible through him.
“……”
“Trials?”
As I can see? Where exactly does this look like a tomb?
Roy wanted to argue the point, but he knew better than to waste breath on a ghost. He simply kept silent, turning the situation over in his mind.
A tomb… With this many elaborate mechanisms, it must be packed with treasure.
The essence of the magic the ghost had created in life would still be here as well. But he had spoken of trials. There was no need to show greed just yet.
“Quite the grand tomb.”
“Was that the trial that grants one the right to approach your tomb?”
I’ve heard this story before.
Roy thought of his previous life. Having left no bloodline to inherit everything he possessed, he had sought a capable disciple instead. He had never imagined that the disciple he found would betray him and bring about his death.
“Right in the middle of a city?”
“What?”
Listening to the ghost, Roy found himself wanting the treasures and legacy, yet the questions he wanted to ask piled up like a mountain.
“Then what exactly are the ruins that were down here? And when did you build this place?”
“You were the first to find these ruins?”
“Then… do you know of House Steelheart?”
That meant at least several thousand years ago. House Steelheart had long ruled these lands—long enough that they still preserved the method of creating Dragon’s Breath through ancient magic. The ghost before him had been a mage from before that house even appeared. And these underground ruins had already been buried even in the era when that mage still lived…
Just how many civilizations have risen and vanished on this continent? Thousands of years… no, perhaps tens of thousands of years ago—histories now completely forgotten…
Roy could not even begin to imagine such a span of time.
“May I ask everything I’m curious about?”
That would be a problem.
“You look to be in your twenties—thirty at most. Did you create that golem in such a short life?”
The garden outside, the shape of the golem… He seems to care a great deal about appearances.
Roy followed in silence. Of course his heart pounded wildly—with curiosity, and with anticipation.
Yet another door. Hoping this would be the last, he grasped the handle.
And then—
“!?”
The brilliance nearly blinded him. The silver tableware barely registered. Everything was steeped in golden light—countless vessels and goblets, ornaments, a crown, and more gold coins than he could hope to count.
Even the contents of this room alone were worth several times—perhaps several dozen times—everything Roy had earned selling magic weapons until now.
And this is the bonus?
Roy’s expression went soft and slack. His nostrils flared of their own accord; the corners of his mouth kept trying to climb upward.
True, more money is always welcome… but this isn’t what I really want.
He did as instructed. With a heavy grinding sound, a cupboard filled with silverware slid sideways. A hidden space appeared. And beyond that space lay exactly what Roy had been hoping for.
“Books!?”
With a thrill of excitement, Roy opened the only sealed bookcase whose doors were still closed—a wooden cabinet with hinged doors. A barrier protected the books from decay, yet opening and closing it was possible.
“Ohh…”
Contrary to the ghost’s expectations, however, after flipping through a few of the books Roy’s vision went dark.
Damn it.
Of course. These were the research results of an ancient being. Naturally they were written in an ancient language, with ancient formulas, using ancient magic circles. Understanding and deciphering them would consume an enormous amount of time.
Still, he could not simply say he could not read them. There was no telling when this ghost might change his mind and refuse to hand anything over. Special safeguards would certainly have been put in place so that the legacy would never fall into the hands of someone who failed to meet his standards or simply rubbed him the wrong way. The entire building might suddenly burst into flames.
“I look forward to it. I shall study your magic diligently, Senior, and spread its greatness throughout the world.”
“I would prefer to leave the research itself as a pleasure for later, but there is something I wish to know about utilizing the mana of this vein.”
“Have you ever heard of something called Dragon’s Breath, Senior?”
“No, not that. Something you drink or consume that permanently increases your mana capacity. We… that is, people in my time, call it that.”
“Water of Wisdom?”
Roy’s hands clenched tight with sudden force.