Chapter 537: Vault of Singulars
Guided by the dwarf, Dasha walked a narrow, dark corridor. This corridor was beneath the Auctioneers’ Guildhall—his guildhall now. This was the Vault of Singulars, a sealed inventory space that only Alþjófr was supposed to access. The staircase journey alone was five minutes long.
’I was correct in my guess once again. The Receiving Chamber was a prelude to his true inventory space.’
The runes on the walls, he recalled seeing some of them in Dr. Thornton’s book. Neither time, dust, corrosion, or theft could affect this vault.
To get here, the dwarf opened up the golden window encasing that showcased the master thieves of his past. He went behind one of them to then draw up a rune and manually created a door. Through this door was a staircase and then this corridor. Cages like the ones above were to the left and right. They were slightly smaller than the cages in the Receiving Chamber. Rather than bars or a door, a small barrier protected the item and the corridor.
"How long did it take you to construct this?"
"A decade. Almost two decades."
This little corridor was small because it was intended only for the dwarf. The width, the length, everything was compact. Dasha was two inches from touching the ceiling. His eyes wandered over the rows of gleaming weapons secured in levitating display cases to his left and right. Each case hovered with a low hum, bound in stasis.
"Who taught you all this?" Dasha asked.
After all, these were not ordinary items the dwarf had stolen. Almost everything here was the result of decades of theft, smuggling, trade, and silent war. When the Auctioneers wanted something, they took it. And overtime they had hoarded swords meant for emperors, generals, and gods.
Dasha passed one blade with a bone hilt that had the symbols of the sacred Dwarf language. All silver and glowing too intensely, it emitted Qi in a strange way. Like...like it was all liquid. Always flowing. He paused, turning his torso left to study the Dwarf language beneath.