Spoils of War

After months of fighting in the shadows, the infamous Sons of Tartarus had fallen.

With almost six hundred dead criminals and seventy dead Machai and five dead Ravens, including the ones who died at the Hierophant, the estate was theirs.

The city watch and Holy Legion’s attention was focused on the blaze in the Merchant’s District, allowing the end of the Sons of Tartarus to go completely unnoticed.

With the estate secure, Mania opened another portal back to the Dread Keep to bring in reinforcements to scour and clean up the site.

Hysminai escorted the servants and slaves they’d taken prisoner back to the keep for Rebecca to handle, whilst Mímir and his Ravens searched for anything of value they could claim as spoils of war.

Most of the base was filled to the brim with contraband, stolen cargo, stockpiles of food, medicine, poisons, weapons, armour and money, all of which Mímir was very happy to take.

“Regardless of what the Dark Lord feels about the loss of the Hierophant, I’m sure he will be more than thrilled with this,” Mímir said confidently.

“If he asks me whose idea that was, I’ll tell him it was yours.”

“Do as you wish. If he’s happy with this result, only I will receive praise for this.”

Mania clicked her tongue. “Well, like you said Mímir when we first came to Stonefall, we should all share in the blame and glory for our actions. After all, we live to serve the Demon Emperor, don’t we?”

Mímir smiled beneath his scarf. “We are his majesty’s loyal servants and live only to serve him.”

Mania turned to Fenrir. “Newbie, make sure the servants aren’t harmed. If Rebecca’s plans for the Dread Keep get the go-ahead, we could probably use another few hundred servants to help keep the place tidy.”

“Will do, Mania!”

“Lady Mania.”

“Why do I have to call you that?”

“Because I am one of the first of his majesty’s servants.”

“And also one of the first servants to fail him.” Mania glared at Fenrir but the wolf simply grinned arrogantly back. “Fine. I won’t call you Lady and I won’t bring up your past mistakes. How does that sound?”

Mania sighed and nodded. “That will do for now.”

As Fenrir and the Hysminai took care of the prisoners, Mímir and Mania continued to explore. They came across a gigantic steel door at the very bottom of the underground base.

The door was three metres tall and five metres wide which excited both generals.

“Get Fenrir and some Machai,” Mímir told a Raven. “Take over her duties of keeping our guests safe.”

A minute later, Fenrir arrived and ten Machai.

Fenrir whistled. “You need me to crack it open?”

“Yes. Try not to damage it too much. The last thing we need is this estate collapsing,” Mímir cautioned her. “Try just breaking the lock and keeping the door on its hinges.”

Fenrir stretched her arms above her head and said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

She went to the handle side of the vault and tried to get a firm grasp on the door itself.

Once Fenrir had a strong grip, she put all of her strength into trying to move it but the door only budged slightly.

She nodded at the Machai and four of them went to help her.

Together, they slowly forced the lock free from the wall, tearing it through the stone wall and, with one final pull, they opened the door.

The other six Machai then pushed their backs against the door to hold it open.

When the generals stepped inside, their eyes widened with glee.

It was filled to the brim with gold, precious jewels, thousands of metal ingots, raw metal ores, glowing magical weapons and armour, and, in the far corner, were artefacts encased in an enchanted glass box to keep them safe.

“Tell the Machai to get their arses down here and leave upstairs to the Hysminai,” Fenrir commanded.

Two of the Ravens promptly left as Fenrir eagerly jumped into the vault, inspecting and sniffing everything she saw.

“You’re lucky that this wasn’t boobytrapped,” Mímir said as he went deeper into the vault.

“I bet the Sons were so arrogant that they never thought anyone would ever make it here other than them.” Fenrir laughed as she dove backwards onto a pile of gold coins. “Ah, this is amazing.”

“It truly is. To think that the Sons had all of this and still couldn’t stand against us,” Mania mused as she began exploring the vault.

“It’s not that, Mania,” Mímir said. “I imagine Carlson probably inherited a lot of this from his family and their connections, then kept it to himself. If Herakles knew of what was in this vault, don’t you think he would’ve taken it?”

Mania giggled. “Certainly. I imagine that Sylvan would never have sold out his allies if they offered him even one percent of what’s in here.”

Mímir’s eyes wandered around the room until her gaze was caught by a shiny metal among the pile of ingots.

He picked up the silver-coloured metal and examined it more closely.

At a glance, it looked like ordinary silver but, if you had a keen eye or touched the metal’s surface, you could tell that it was a different kind of metal.

It had a much rougher texture and it was heavier than silver was.

“What’s that?” Mania asked.

“Did you ever read the book I bought about the rarest metals, ores and gems in Aangapea?” She shook her head. “They made mention of one of the rarest metals in the entire world, found only in the deepest veins of Dragon Spine called Dragon Metal.”

“Dragon Metal?”

“It’s was originally named after the mountain range it’d been discovered in, but then it earned its name when it proved to be stronger than even a dragon’s scales. And.” Mímir looked down at the stacks of ingots and spotted dozens of Dragon ones. “Carlson seems to have plenty of them.”

“How much would one ingot cost you in Rham?”

“About a hundred and fifty thousand.”

“For one tiny ingot?!” Mania gasped in disbelief, then looked at the ingots and the treasures around them. “This entire room must’ve taken centuries for them to assemble.”

“Yes, and it only took us one evening to rob them off it.” Mímir pulled down his scarf and grinned. “This, Mania, might be the greatest gift we could give his majesty.”