After clutching the ancient tome and giving it a reverent kiss, Wared carefully tucked it under his arm and proceeded to unlock the door to the next chamber. Buoyed by his recent stroke of luck, he was determined to uncover even greater treasures. But as the saying goes, lightning rarely strikes twice. The Code of Knighthood he had found was already a cosmic stroke of luck, and anything else in this tomb paled in comparison. In fact, the other items he discovered were worth less than a thousandth of the Code's value. At first, this disappointed Wared, but then he reconciled himself to the reality.
The Code had ascended to become a conceptual armament only because of its historical significance. Over millennia, the idea of knighthood had been so universally accepted that the book, once a mere relic, had transformed into a vessel of universal laws. When it was buried here, it had been nothing more than a mundane text. Wared had simply been in the right place at the right time.
Having accepted this, Wared stopped dreaming of further miracles. Besides, he hadn't left the tomb empty-handed. In fact, some of the items he found here were arguably more practical than the Code.
The most valuable among them was a dagger, no more than thirty centimeters in length. While most of the weapons in the tomb had decayed beyond recognition over the centuries, this dagger, forged in the style of the ancient empire, remained as sharp and gleaming as if it had been crafted yesterday. Its blade, made of a rare and durable orichalcum alloy, bore intricate elven engravings, dwarven runes, and the unmistakable craftsmanship of the imperial smiths. There were also other materials embedded in the blade that Wared couldn't identify, each a masterpiece on its own. Together, they formed a weapon of unparalleled perfection.
Wared marveled at the sheer extravagance of the dagger. It was a testament to the wealth and ambition of the empire at its zenith.
Curious, Wared tested the dagger's edge against the chamber's stone wall. With a flick of his wrist, the blade sliced through the rock as easily as it would through butter. He stared in disbelief, picking up the severed chunk and inspecting it. The stone was genuine, solid granite.
"Incredible," Wared murmured. "For ancient craftsmanship, this dagger is the pinnacle of perfection. Honestly, I'd believe it if someone told me it was made with some kind of lost technology. It's on par with the monomolecular blades of my past life. But that's not all—this dagger has another function."
As he held it, Wared felt his fatigue melt away and his depleted magical reserves replenish at an astonishing rate. Magic flowed from the crystal embedded in the dagger's hilt into his body, restoring nearly a third of his energy before the crystal disintegrated completely.
This discovery thrilled Wared. By replacing the crystal, he could use the dagger as a near-limitless source of energy during battle, significantly extending his endurance. This feature, he realized, might even surpass the dagger's value as a weapon.
It was common knowledge among mages that directly absorbing magic from crystals was a dangerous, if not suicidal, practice. Most who attempted it either exploded from the sheer force of the magic or suffered brain damage, turning into mindless husks. Even the rare few who survived often became addicted to the process, rendering themselves useless.
Wared had often heard Isabella, his sister, lament this limitation. She had sworn to solve this problem one day, even fantasizing about using the breakthrough to humiliate her mentor, Lady Tricia. But Wared doubted Isabella's aptitude for such delicate work. Her "imprecise" approach to alchemy usually resulted in explosions heard throughout the castle.
"Who would have thought," Wared mused, "that the ancients had already cracked this mystery millennia ago? Such a shame the technique was lost with the empire." This realization deepened his admiration for the dagger and the empire that had produced it.
But while the dagger was the most valuable of his finds, it wasn't the most practical.
The ancient empire had been in transition from a slave-based society to feudalism, and its emperors were hardly paragons of virtue. Countless slaves had died building these tombs, and many more had been sacrificed as burial offerings. The dagger, as it turned out, had been taken from the skeletal remains of a high-ranking officer—likely a trusted general in the emperor's guard. Though once a man of power and prestige, he was now nothing more than a pile of bones.
When Wared entered the chamber, the dagger was the first thing he noticed. Only after examining it did he turn his attention to the rest of the room.
The chamber held the remains of over a thousand soldiers, their skeletons clad in rusted, baroque armor. Even in death, their robust frames and military precision marked them as ideal candidates for reanimation into powerful undead creatures. This discovery reassured Wared; even if he damaged the ancient guardians in his family's tomb, he now had the means to replace them.
Though Wared didn't know the exact rituals for creating tomb guards or liches, he was confident he could use these remains to craft high-level undead servants. Once he returned home, he could enlist the help of the black cat—after all, she had let him venture out in the first place. If things escalated, it would be in her best interest to assist him.
With this plan in mind, Wared began his work. The dagger had replenished his magic, and he was ready to begin. Wielding the chaotic winds of magic, he conjured an intense, azure flame that melted the rusted armor and weapons into ingots of black iron. These ingots twisted and reshaped themselves under his command, forming full suits of plate armor, winged helmets, swords, shields, and massive halberds.
"Winged crowns, full black iron plate, halberds… what's missing?" Wared snapped his fingers, and invisible brushes painted the emblems of the Carstein family onto the armor. The crest—a blood-red sword piercing an imperial breastplate—symbolized the vampires' eternal hatred and ambition to conquer. Alongside it, a chalice brimming with blood represented the pride of House Carstein and the legendary Knights of the Blood Grail.
As for crossbows and staves, Wared decided to forgo them. "If anyone asks, I'll just say I broke them while playing around. No big deal."
With his preparations complete, Wared felt a surge of satisfaction. The dagger was a wonder, but the army he was about to raise would be his true masterpiece.