As much as it pained Bertrim Nelspir to do it, especially after the idiot boy had basically abducted their monster detector, he couldn’t deny Velik and his team a proper reward for not only destroying a dungeon that was making more of the corrupting monsters, but saving what was left of two different gold teams.

  It had been the work of another month to cleanse the city, though that was aided greatly by the addition of two new druids—one of which was local and had immediately signed up with the guild. The girl, Sildra, was still the only one who could actually remove the monsters from their hosts, but the screening process was proceeding nicely now that they had multiple people who could check.

  Sadly, that was about the only good news Bertrim had received lately. Several high-ranking officials in the city’s governmental hierarchy had also been infected with agents of corruption, and that was a whole mess that he was glad he didn’t have to deal with directly. It was still causing problems with his guild’s functions as a mere byproduct of being located in Cravel, however, which meant it was still a headache for him.

  That all explained why he was in a foul mood, but he knew better than to let it show on his face. So when Velik the Black Fang showed up for his reward, Bertrim plastered a fake smile on and led the arrogant boy to the vault.

  “Have you given any thought to what you’d like to claim?” the guild master asked, sincerely hoping the answer was ‘yes’ and that this would be over quickly.

  “Not really,” Velik said with irritating nonchalance. “I wasn’t really sure what my options were.”

  Gods damn it, he’s a browser. We’ll be here for hours.

  Thankfully, Emberson came to his rescue. The rules stated that there needed to be an escort strong enough to ensure the behavior of any members granted access to the vault in addition to the guild master himself. Bertrim honestly wasn’t sure why he was bothering, since one of the things the infiltrators had done was to subtly loot the guild vaults. They hadn’t taken everything, or even most things, but there was enough missing that they still didn’t have a complete inventory of the losses.

  “I’ll help you pick out something useful,” the platinum ranker promised. Velik nodded absently, clearly lost in his own thoughts, and thus missed the grateful look Bertrim shot Emberson.

  At least Aria and Torwin were quick to pick out something. Gods willing, Emberson will shepherd Velik through this with equal fervor.

  The other two golds to be rewarded had understood that the guild was suffering right now and limited themselves to modest prizes. Somehow, Bertrim doubted Velik would be quite so magnanimous.

  The vault itself was directly under the guild hall, supposedly secure enough that only a guild master could gain direct access. The corrupted administration had put the lie to that, though, not that anyone could figure out how they’d done it. For now, they were just going to keep following the process, and so Bertrim unlocked the vault with his guild master’s badge.

  It was a series of rooms, with the most powerful, expensive, or rare objects locked away at the very back. Many of the displays near the front were samples of the type of gear or tools that crafters associated with the guild could create, and most visitors were only allowed to take something from there. Then the appropriate crafter would create a replacement, it would be placed in the vault, and the process would repeat in a few weeks or months the next time someone did something to merit a trip there.

  Velik, of course, bypassed the first few rooms with barely a glance. Emberson tried to steer him toward a few of the more popular pieces, but he waved away the suggestions and delved deeper, to where the more exotic pieces sat.

  Bertrim followed along silently while inwardly cringing at the expense with each passed threshold. Technically speaking, it was within his power to stop Velik and demand he choose something from one of the lesser displays, but the kid had saved Emberson’s life, and since Emberson was in the room with them, Bertrim kept his mouth shut.

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  Finally, eight rooms into the vault, Velik paused in front of a case holding six knives. They were arranged in a circle on a cushion of red velvet, with all their points forming a small circle they radiated out from. A leather bandolier was wrapped around the cushion in a loop. Gods damn it. Of course he’d pick one of the most expensive and irreplaceable pieces here.

  “These,” Velik said.

  “Are you sure?” Bertrim asked, feigning confusion. “I thought you favored the spear.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “But you don’t even know what they do,” Bertrim protested, but any further arguments were promptly swallowed under Emberson’s withering glare. “Very well. If that’s your choice, it’s well within your rights. I simply don’t want you to regret your decision later.”

  Velik opened the case and gathered up the knives, placing them into their respective slots in the bandolier with barely more than a glance. It wouldn’t hurt him to at least appreciate it a little bit. Those aren’t twenty vitrune blades, you jackass!

  “Thank you,” Velik told the guild master. He nodded at Emberson, then walked back out of the vault, leaving Bertrim to scramble after him.

  * * *

  Jensen better have been right about these, Velik thought as he examined the throwing knives in private. The set was known as the Fangs of the Wind Dragon, epic quality, and with the peculiar ability to return to the bandolier that housed them shortly after being thrown. There were a few other enchantments on them, as well, but that had been Velik’s primary interest.

  He wasn’t planning on picking up a weapon throwing skill, but he was tired of not having some sort of ranged option. His naturally high physical would be enough to put some force behind each throw and to make sure it landed where he wanted it to. He’d never be as powerful at range as someone like Torwin, who had multiple skills dedicated to archery, but it patched an oft-lamented hole in Velik’s skill set.

  More than that, they were extremely valuable, one of the most expensive pieces in the entire vault, if Jensen was correct. Judging by the sour look on Nelspir’s face when he’d picked them, Velik was sure that was the case. If anyone deserved it, it was the guild, so Velik didn’t feel bad about ripping them off.

  A knock at the door brought Velik out of his thoughts, and a single sniff identified his visitor. “Come in,” he said.

  “Are those it, then?” Jensen asked as he walked into the room Velik rented. For some reason, he’d insisted on paying for Velik to stay at the Crystal Monocle, even though it was ten times more expensive than Melon and Peach. The beds weren’t that much better, and if anything, the clientele was even noisier. The smells were certainly different, though.

  “Right where you said they’d be,” Velik said, gesturing for Jensen to take a look.

  “[Treasure Hunter] is going nuts over them, too,” Jensen said with a smirk. “If I can keep leveling it up like this, I think pretty soon I’ll have full range in the city.”

  Jensen had spent three days hanging around the guild hall, trying to pierce whatever obfuscation kept him from using his all-important skill in the city, which had finally resulted in a rank up that gave him what he dubbed “extremely limited awareness” of valuable objects near him. It helped that apparently unattended pieces were easier for Jensen to sense.

  “Now that this little piece of business is done,” the [Vault Seeker] started, “it’s time to start planning our first real expedition. No more detours or sudden emergencies this time. We’re going to get rich.”

  “I’m already rich,” Velik pointed out with an incredulous laugh.

  “No, not peasant-rich. Noble-rich. I’m talking decarmas into the millions.”

  “You know I don’t care about any of that.”

  “You’ll care when you’ve got enough money to update your whole wardrobe again, and with legendary rarity pieces. You should see what my father wears to functions, just to show off. His outerwear costs more than this inn, and that’s just one piece.”

  Legendary pieces weren’t something someone could just buy off the streets, but Velik did have a few champion seeds left. He needed a system-bought piece of gear to use them on, but upgrading an epic spear with a seed was how he’d gotten his weapon up to legendary ranked. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to invest in a few new pieces of gear with the money he was set to make.

  What he really wanted, though, was to raise himself up to level 50 and open another skill slot. That was something that couldn’t be bought, and apparently raiding old tombs from whatever precursor civilization had settled Ghestal before humans came along was an excellent way to find strong monsters to hunt.

  At least, that’s what Jensen tells me. Considering his obvious bias, I’ll believe it when I see it.

  “Where are we going first?” Velik asked with a sigh.

  “Oh, come on. Be happier about this. We’re going to be rich, which will translate directly into you being stronger, which means the next time you go destroy a dungeon, you won’t have to damn near kill yourself to get the job done.”

  “Fine, fine. You win,” Velik said. “But you didn’t answer the question.”

  Grinning, Jensen pulled out a map and unfolded it. “Let me tell you about an old necropolis a mere eight hundred miles east of here.”

  End of Book 2