Chapter 16 — Do You Think Wealth Is a Problem to Me?
Before departing for the Gods' Tournament, the God of Scholars had unfinished business.
"Wait here," he told Nameless.
He stepped into his private treasury.
The doors opened slowly.
Even for a god, the sight was overwhelming.
Mountains of golden coins reflected divine light like flowing rivers. Ancient relics floated in suspended arrays. Crowned skulls of extinct celestial beasts rested on pedestals. Blades forged before recorded time hummed with restrained power.
This was not wealth.
This was history collected and owned.
Nameless walked in casually, hands in his pockets, gaze scanning everything without visible excitement.
The God of Scholars allowed himself a small smile.
"You know, Nameless," he said calmly, "among the gods… I am the richest after the God of Wealth."
He lifted a crystalline artifact, inspecting it with pride.
"I stand just below him."
Nameless tilted his head.
"This is your personal treasury," he asked, "or your kingdom's entire wealth?"
"My personal treasury," the Scholar replied smoothly.
"Oh," Nameless nodded. "That's good."
The Scholar frowned slightly. "Why?"
"Then tell me," Nameless continued, stepping forward, "what is the total wealth of your kingdom?"
The Scholar hesitated for a moment, then answered confidently, naming figures vast beyond mortal imagination.
Nameless listened quietly.
When the Scholar finished, Nameless laughed.
"Indeed," he said softly, "you truly are one step below the God of Wealth."
He paused.
"But do you think you're richer than me?"
The Scholar narrowed his eyes.
"I am the Nameless," he continued. "I conquered countless kingdoms. And yes… now I am considered 'civilized.' But in the past?"
A faint grin appeared.
"I was not."
The air in the treasury shifted slightly.
"Do not show off treasure in front of me," Nameless said lightly. "The Phantom Thief may awaken."
The Scholar understood immediately.
It wasn't a joke.
It was a warning disguised as humor.
He had seen that side before—the version of Nameless who dismantled empires not for need, but for strategy.
Showing wealth to a being like that was dangerous.
Not because Nameless needed money.
But because he enjoyed proving he could take it.
The Scholar calmly gathered only the necessary travel artifacts: dimensional keys, protection seals, and two relic-grade communicators.
He avoided further commentary about his wealth.
As they turned to leave, Nameless's steps slowed.
His gaze fixed on something resting on a high obsidian pedestal.
A small artifact.
Unassuming.
Dark silver in color.
Cracked.
It looked incomplete.
Nameless walked toward it slowly.
The Scholar noticed.
"Do not touch that," he said immediately.
Nameless didn't respond.
His eyes were locked onto the object.
For a brief second—
Something inside him stirred.
Not greed.
Not curiosity.
Recognition.
The cracked artifact pulsed faintly… as if responding to him.
Nameless extended his hand halfway—
And stopped.
The air around him grew unnaturally still.
The God of Scholars' voice lowered.
"That artifact," he said carefully, "was found near the battlefield where the Illusion King fell."
Silence.
Nameless's fingers trembled slightly.
A faint pressure built behind his eyes.
The same emptiness.
The same missing piece.
The artifact pulsed once more.
As if calling him.
And for the first time in a long while—
Nameless did not smile.
.
.
.
.
Thank you for reading
The next chapters would be
more curetic
Have a good day
Bye