Chapter 534: Cold Sweat
"Heh, unless something unexpected happens, that's probably the case..." Thorne Merlin's lips curled into a bitter smile. He glanced at everyone, paused, then continued, "I think you all know that every swordsman, to some extent, has a special attachment to greatswords or longswords. Personally, I love collecting greatswords. Among my collection, there's one crafted by the Royal Workshop of the Third Dynasty. It's said that this greatsword once belonged to a Captain of the Royal Guard. I spent a fortune to acquire it at an auction..."
"Unfortunately, though the greatsword is exquisitely made, its edge fierce, and forged from the finest alchemical materials, it still couldn't withstand the erosion of time. Passed down through thousands of years, it's now severely damaged. When I first got it, I took it to the Mercury Tower, hoping to pay a hefty price to persuade a master to repair it. At that time, Lord Caron of the Mercury Tower was already a renowned master craftsman—one of the very best. Yet even he was powerless before that greatsword. He told me himself that the techniques used by the Third Dynasty Royal Workshop had been completely lost when the dynasty fell..."
Edgar Merlin and the others listened quietly, as if hearing a story. None of them found Thorne Merlin's words tedious. By the end, they understood, and their expressions grew serious.
"Most important of all, this technique from the Royal Workshop was unique to that era. In other words, only the Royal Guard and the Emperor's personal troops were qualified to wield such standardized greatswords. If a commoner happened to acquire one and failed to turn it in—keeping it for themselves—once discovered, they'd face the harshest punishment from the Empire..." Thorne Merlin stopped here, wearing a bitter smile as he looked at everyone. "It seems the first to discover this plane wasn't us, but the royal family of the Third Dynasty..."
Just as everyone was digesting this information, a slightly panicked voice rang out: "Come over here—there's more... a lot more!"
The speaker was Larn Merlin. The broken sword in Thorne Merlin's hand had been discovered by this Title Archmage. While the others were discussing its origins, Larn Merlin hadn't left. He kept squatting at the spot where he'd found the sword, rummaging through the snow as if hoping to uncover something else.
Sure enough, after a bit of digging, he made a new discovery...
"What do you mean, there's a lot more?" The group walked over to Larn Merlin, puzzled. The next moment, they all froze. In front of Larn Merlin, inside a one-meter-wide snow pit, lay a jumble of pitch-black greatswords—some intact, some broken...
"My god, how can there be so many..." The first to cry out was Thorne Merlin. This usually calm Fifth Level Sword Saint lost his composure at the sight of all those greatswords in the snow pit.
Because he could clearly see that there were at least a dozen greatswords lying in the snow pit...
What did that mean?
It meant that at least a dozen Royal Guards or members of the Emperor's personal troops had fallen on this icy plain. As a Fifth Level Sword Saint, Thorne Merlin knew very well that, throughout Northend's history, every swordsman cherished their sword—almost as if it were their second life.
This was the code of every swordsman...
The moment a young person officially became a swordsman, their teacher would solemnly tell them to treat their sword as if it were family.
Unless there was some special reason, or the swordsman had fallen, they'd never abandon their sword so carelessly...
What truly shocked Thorne Merlin was...
Those Royal Guards and personal troops were all handpicked from the Third Dynasty's army—their strength was at least Sword Saint level. In fact, during the Third Dynasty's heyday, the captain commanding all the Royal Guards was even Sky Rank...
At least a dozen Sword Saints had fallen on this icy plain—it was enough to leave Thorne Merlin stunned...
"Dig a little deeper, see if there's anything else..."
While Thorne Merlin was still lost in shock, someone said something, and suddenly everyone sprang into action. Waves of powerful magic surged, and earthen golems were summoned, swaying as they dug through the snow.
"Rumble..."
But after only a few digs, the icy plain beneath their feet trembled. The snow suddenly collapsed, revealing a deep, dark opening before them.
"What is that...?"
Larn Merlin, closest to the opening, was the first to show a look of shock, his gaze locked on the entrance, unable to look away. Following his line of sight, the others looked over—and were stunned. Inside the snow cave, it wasn't dark at all. Instead, it shimmered with golden light...
The others reacted just like Larn Merlin—first shocked, then unable to tear their eyes away from the golden glow.
It was all gold and silver treasure...
Piles and piles of gold and silver treasure were heaped together in a chaotic mess, countless flashes of gold stirring up that deep-seated human craving for wealth.
Even though they'd all transcended worldly concerns...
Faced with a sight like this, they were still drawn in, unable to look away.
The inside of the snow cave was spacious, piled high with gold and silver treasure—so much that it was impossible to count. Among the treasure, the group could make out dozens of pitch-black greatswords scattered throughout. Just those visible on the surface numbered at least a hundred. The sight was utterly shocking.
"How can there be so many..." Thorne Merlin stared at the pitch-black greatswords, his voice almost like a dream. To the others, it sounded as if Lord Thorne was marveling at the treasure.
At first, Thorne Merlin had been rendered speechless by the wealth, but what truly caught his attention were those pitch-black greatswords.
There were more than a hundred greatswords...
This meant that over a hundred Royal Guards had fallen here. Such a large-scale deployment couldn't have been ordered by an ordinary royal family member—it required the authority of the era's ruler.
Most likely, it was an emperor of the Third Dynasty who brought a large contingent of Royal Guards to this icy plane. No one knew what happened back then to cause so many of them to fall.
"It seems there's an unknown secret buried here..." Thorne Merlin exclaimed, staring blankly into the snow cave.
At that moment, Leon, who had been silent, stepped forward. He gazed thoughtfully at the snow cave for a while, then, with no hint of longing, turned to the others and said, "We've already wasted enough time here. Shouldn't we hurry up and get moving?"
As Leon finished speaking, the group stared at him in disbelief, falling into a brief silence. After three or five minutes, Larn Merlin finally reacted: "Archmage Leon, how can you say that? This is an unimaginably vast fortune. If we bring it back, the Merlin Mage Legion's strength will rise by at least two levels. Shouldn't we spare a little more time to take these treasures with us?"
This elderly Title Archmage was clearly excited by Leon's words, but he'd also learned to be clever. His attitude toward Leon made a complete one-eighty, becoming extremely respectful.
He couldn't help it—after witnessing the young mage's true power and having his own magic sealed, he’d been scared half to death. Now, facing the young mage, he didn’t dare show even a hint of attitude.
Northend, throughout history, has always been a world where the strong prey on the weak.
He’d previously provoked the young mage in countless ways—partly out of jealousy. In Larn Merlin’s eyes, how could a Fifth Level Archmage become the exalted commander of the planar legion?
Yes, before his magic was sealed, he was deeply jealous of the young mage’s position as commander...
He himself was about to break through to Fifth Level Title Archmage, with a chance to become a high-rank Title Archmage. He’d made countless contributions to the Merlin Family over decades. In terms of qualifications, seniority, and strength, he was far superior to a young mage at Fifth Level. Yet that young man became commander.
He even felt the ancestral grounds were grossly unfair...
So, when he first met the young mage, with no personal grudge, he’d acted irrationally—always opposing him.
It wasn’t until a few hours ago, when his magic was sealed by the young mage, that he realized how wrong he’d been—absurdly wrong...
A young mage who could easily suppress a peak Fourth Level Title Archmage—how terrifying must his true power be? At the very least, he had to be Seventh Level Title Archmage or higher...
Whenever he thought about how many times he’d mouthed off to such a terrifying figure, he broke out in a cold sweat, regretting it to his core.
No exaggeration—provoking the young mage was practically asking for death.
As for the young mage’s position as commander...
He no longer had any reason to be jealous. In his eyes, a mage with such terrifying power deserved to be commander—it was only natural...
Thinking of this, a fresh layer of cold sweat broke out on Larn Merlin’s forehead. He figured if he humbled himself and asked the young mage to let them take the treasure, it shouldn’t be a problem. Otherwise, the young mage really would be a bit unreasonable...
But in the next instant, the young mage’s icy voice rang out again: "Lord Larn, did you not understand what I just said? Do you need me to repeat it...?"
Ah...
Larn Merlin was instantly bewildered. What was going on? This didn’t make any sense...