**Chapter 22:The Vault Of Shadows**
Washing away a week’s worth of sweat and grime, I changed into proper noble attire—a fitted black coat lined with silver embroidery—and made my way toward the inner sanctum of the estate. Sara followed closely behind, carrying herself with newfound pride as my personal maid.
Deep beneath the main mansion lay the Duchy’s treasury. Guarded by ancient barrier formations and heavy iron doors, it was a place where only those of high bloodline or exceptional merit were permitted to tread.
As Mother and I approached the vault's massive stone threshold, three figures stepped out from the shadows, blocking our path.
They were the elder council—old men dressed in ceremonial robes, their faces lined with stubborn authority.
"Duchess," the eldest among them spoke, his voice dry like rustling leaves as his sharp gaze landed on me. "We mean no disrespect, but the young master’s reputation is... well-known. Permitting an unproven heir into the high vault to claim a family heirloom is against protocol. The treasury holds weapons of immense power; giving one to someone who might waste it is a risk we cannot allow."
A heavy silence fell over the corridor. I felt Sara tense up behind me, but I didn't say a word. I didn't need to.
Mother took a single step forward. She didn't raise her hand, nor did she shout, but a suffocating pressure burst from her, making the ambient mana in the hallway tremble. The temperature plummeted, and the elders involuntarily flinched back, their faces draining of color.
"Are you questioning my judgment?" Mother asked softly, her voice cold enough to freeze blood. "Or have you forgotten who holds authority in this household while the Duke commands the border defense?"
The Duke—my father—was currently away on the front lines, leading our forces in a critical campaign against a massive monster horde threatening the border. Mother was now has responsibility of duchy as acting head., making her the absolute authority of the duchy in his absence.
"W-We would never, Your Grace!" the chief elder stammered, bowing his head in deep panic. "Forgive our overstep!"
"Step aside," she commanded.
Without another word, the elders scrambled out of the way, hastily keying their mana into the runic lock. The heavy vault doors groaned and slowly parted, revealing a sprawling hall bathed in divine and mystical glows.
As I stepped through the threshold, the sheer density of mana inside the vault took my breath away.
Row after row of legendary artifacts sat displayed under enchanted glass enclosures: staff heads carved from dragon heartwood, armor forged from adamantine, and weapons radiating blinding golden and elemental lights.
"Take your time," Mother said gently, her tone completely shifting from her previous icy demeanor. "Listen to your mana core. A true soul weapon chooses its master just as much as the master chooses the blade."
I slowly walked down the central aisle. I passed
Mythical-rank
battleaxes that crackled with violent flames, and
Legendary-rank
rapiers that hummed with gale-force winds. Yet, despite their overwhelming presence, none of them resonated with my mana core.
Then, as I reached the deepest, darkest corner of the vault, a subtle pull tugged at the back of my mind.
Sitting atop a pedestal of black obsidian was a single blade. Unlike the bright, glowing weapons around it, this sword seemed to absorb the light around it. It was a dark longsword, its sheath crafted from an unknown pitch-black leather, and its hilt wrapped in dark silver thread. The guard was shaped like folded demon wings, subtle yet deadly.
[Item Appraisal: Shadow's Edge (Soul Weapon)]
>Rank: Mythical Description: A blade forged from dark-star ore and spatial rift residue. Capable of channeling extreme elemental pressures and spatial mana without shattering.
The moment I reached out and brushed my fingers against the hilt, a violent jolt rang through my soul.
THUMP.
My heart leaped. The half-awakened Space affinity in my core violently resonated with the blade, sending a thrilling, cold pulse straight up my arm. It felt as if the sword had been waiting for me—a missing piece of my own power.
‘Host! This blade... it matches your dual nature perfectly,’
Ada whispered in my mind.
‘Its structural integrity can effortlessly handle the kinetic shock of your Fire and Lightning spells, and it has latent spatial conductive properties!’
I wrapped my fingers firmly around the grip and pulled.
SCHWING!
The blade slid smoothly from its scabbard. It was impossibly light, yet radiated a dark, suffocating aura that briefly turned the ambient light in the treasury dim.
Mother gasped softly from behind me, her eyes widening in surprise. "To think... that dark blade has rested undisturbed in our treasury for three generations. No elder or commander could ever force it to acknowledge them."
I held the dark sword before me, admiring the faint, swirling dark patterns running along the sharp edge. A small smile crept onto my face as I sheathed it with a satisfying click.
"This is the one, Mother," I said, turning back to face her.
She stared at me for a long moment before a proud smile touched her lips. "Then it is yours, my son. Master it well... because starting tomorrow, you prepare for the front lines."