Mission accomplished.
Ryan sacrificed the corpse, reluctantly absorbing its meager energy. "Pathetic."
He examined his prizes:
1. The Tinderbox — worn and etched with faint runes.
2. The Witch's Grimoire — thick, leather-bound, and reeking of old magic.
As he flipped through the grimoire, his initial excitement waned. Most spells were parlor tricks.
- Mage Hand: Barely strong enough to lift a spoon.
- Light Orb: A glorified lantern.
- Lockpick Charm: Useful if he planned a life of burglary.
Yet a few gems stood out:
- Spirit Reveal: Exposes supernatural entities.
- Holy Light: Burns the undead.
Ryan sacrificed the book. Knowledge flooded his mind—how to wield magic.
Magic permeated the world, but harnessing it required mental strength—a non-issue for him. Countless sacrifices had forged his psyche into something monstrous. Most wizards would weep at his untapped potential.
This might work against the villa's curse.
But what about the thing festering beneath his home? That would require more firepower.
He turned to the tinderbox.
One strike.
A white hound materialized—teacup-sized eyes, wolfish frame, and intelligence gleaming in its gaze.
Guardian of the Copper Vault.
The weakest of three.
Ryan's instincts prickled. Why would a witch risk death for mere gold? Why would they bind three ancient guardians to a tinderbox?
"There's more here."
"Take me to the vaults." he ordered.
The hound bolted. Ryan spurred Darknight after it.
Thirty minutes later, a gnarled tree loomed ahead. The hound leaped and vanished into its trunk.
Ryan dismounted, found the hollow, and jumped in after it.
Down. Down. Down.
He landed in a torch-lit corridor. Three doors awaited him.
1. Copper — human-sized.
2. Silver — five meters tall.
3. Gold: A towering colossus.
Each portal pulsed with latent power.
Let's see what's really inside.
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