Chapter 752
Odin’s vault was filled with treasures beyond counting. Calling them priceless barely did them justice. These were objects whose worth couldn’t be measured by ordinary standards.
Consider a nuclear bomb. If you calculated its value based on manufacturing costs alone, it might not even be worth as much as a luxury car. But what if you accounted for what it could do? An entire city destroyed. Millions of lives lost. Radioactive contamination that could linger for centuries.
How much would you say that was worth?
Many of the treasures locked away in Odin’s vault possessed power on that scale, if not greater. Calling the place a treasury was almost misleading. It was closer to Asgard’s nuclear arsenal.
Which made one thing particularly strange.
Evenson hadn’t seen a single guard on the way there.
If this had happened years ago, he might not have thought much of it. The vault had once been protected by the Destroyer, an enchanted construct personally empowered by Odin. The Destroyer was both a treasure in its own right and the vault’s ultimate security system. When the Frost Giants had attempted to steal its contents, the construct had reduced them to ash in moments.
Unfortunately, the Destroyer had been out of commission for years.
And apparently, nobody had bothered to replace it.
Evenson glanced at Sif, who was leading the way ahead of him.
Should he mention the security problem? Perhaps Odin could assign some guards to fill the gap left by the Destroyer.
Then again, Evenson reconsidered.
He remembered exactly what had happened to the Destroyer.
He had personally blown the thing apart.
If he brought up the subject now, Odin might decide to send him the repair bill. And what would he do then? Ask that old rascal Gnoros to build a fel-powered mechanical suit as compensation?
If Gnoros could make something that valuable, Evenson would much rather sell it himself.
No point handing over a perfectly good profit.
He quietly abandoned the idea and continued following Sif.
They were approaching the final corner before the vault entrance when he suddenly stopped.
Sif, meanwhile, was physically present but mentally still in the throne room.
She couldn’t explain the uneasy feeling that had settled over her. Ever since Thor’s audience with Odin, she’d had the nagging suspicion that something unpleasant was about to happen. She had spent the entire walk wondering what it might be.
Consequently, she failed to notice when Evenson stopped behind her.
She continued down the corridor for several seconds before realizing she was walking alone.
Turning around, she found Evenson frozen in the middle of a step.
His front foot rested flat on the floor, while the heel of his back foot remained raised. His body was tilted forward, as though someone had paused time in the middle of his stride.
His head was lowered, and he was staring intently at the polished floor.
Sif scratched her head and walked back toward him.
"What are you doing? What are you looking at?"
"Hmm..."
Evenson stroked the stubble that had appeared along his chin over the past few days. He offered no explanation.
Sif stared at him, then planted a hand on her hip and rolled her eyes.
"Stop inspecting the floor. Yes, it’s polished enough to serve as a mirror, but it’s ordinary stone. Someone simply took the time to smooth it properly. It’s not worth anything."
"Oh..."
Evenson plucked a hair from his chin and winced slightly.
"All right. Let’s keep moving."
Sif shook her head and resumed leading the way.
Evenson followed, but not before casting one final glance at the patch of flooring.
He knew perfectly well that the stone wasn’t valuable. The entire corridor was paved with the same material. He had no reason to stop and admire one random section of it.
The problem was something else.
When he’d stepped over that particular spot, he’d sensed a faint, deeply unsettling presence beneath the floor.
Perhaps it was an occupational hazard of being a Warlock. Perhaps his instincts as a spellcaster were simply sharper than most people’s.
Whatever the reason, something down there had caught his attention.
The sensation was incredibly weak, barely noticeable at all. Yet when he’d paused to examine it, he’d found it strangely familiar.
It wasn’t fel energy.
Nor was it the familiar presence of shadow magic.
After a moment’s thought, he realized what it reminded him of.
Necromancy.
More specifically, it bore a faint resemblance to the magic he’d used when casting his own necromantic spell a few days earlier.
Before he could investigate further, Sif had interrupted him.
The interruption had been enough to break his concentration, and now his curiosity was competing with another, more practical instinct.
Caution.
The incident involving the murals above the throne room was still fresh in his memory. Someone had deliberately concealed those images, and the lengths they had gone to keep their secrets hidden had included killing anyone who might expose them.
That suggested the secrets were worth protecting.
And Evenson had no desire to become the next person who knew too much.
Some mysteries were better left alone.
For now.
They rounded the final corner, and Sif pushed open the vault doors.
Evenson stepped inside.
The treasures within immediately filled his field of vision.
Everywhere he looked, there were artifacts that radiated power, craftsmanship, or both. Some appeared ancient beyond reckoning. Others were so strange that he couldn’t even begin to guess their purpose.
He was allowed to take one.
One entire treasure, selected from the personal vault of Odin, the All-Father of Asgard.
For a moment, Evenson expected to be overwhelmed by indecision.
He wasn’t.
The instant he crossed the threshold, his attention locked onto something positioned prominently near the entrance.
It was a rectangular block of solid-looking gold, taller than a man and thick enough to serve as a small defensive wall.
A gigantic gold brick.
Evenson’s eyes widened.
His whole body trembled with the effort of restraining himself. For one shameful instant, he nearly rushed forward and tested the thing’s authenticity with his teeth.
He forced himself to calm down.
Then a nagging suspicion crept into his mind.
That gold brick absolutely did not belong in Odin’s vault.
Gold was valuable, certainly. It was a precious metal with all sorts of industrial applications.
But this was Asgard.
The palace itself was practically dripping with gold. Much of the architecture had been built with the stuff, and apparently the Asgardians had found it so dazzling that they’d covered portions of it with a thick, dull coating to tone down the shine.
Compared with the other treasures in this room, a giant block of gold had no business being here.
Sif looked at it in bewilderment.
"When did this get here?"
She walked over and craned her neck to examine it, then glanced up at the ceiling.
"Do you think a piece of the ceiling fell out? Perhaps this was being used as a building block."
Evenson suddenly understood.
This wasn’t an accident.
Odin had arranged it.
The message was obvious: I promised you one treasure from my vault, and technically, this gold brick qualifies. Take it and leave the real treasures alone.
Evenson’s mouth twitched.
"Really? We’re doing this?"
He had been about to compare it to the sort of paltry handout one might give a beggar, but then he looked at the brick again.
It was enormous.
He couldn’t quite bring himself to finish the insult.
Still, was he really supposed to take the gold and leave?
He peered deeper into the vault.
Compared with the genuine treasures on display, the brick was practically worthless. Choosing it would be like buying an exquisite jewelry box full of pearls, then returning every pearl and walking away with nothing but a rusty screw from the lid.
Except this particular screw was several tons of gold.
Evenson swallowed.
That was the problem.
It was a lot of gold.
Enough gold to make a very persuasive argument.
He was torn.
"Have you already started choosing?"
A woman’s voice came from the entrance.
"I was going to offer you a proper tour and explain some of the treasures. What a shame."
Evenson and Sif turned around immediately.
Sif dropped to one knee in a formal salute.
Evenson bowed deeply.
The newcomer was none other than Frigga, Queen of Asgard.
Frigga acknowledged them with a slight nod, allowing them to rise. She then entered the vault and glanced at the gigantic gold brick.
Her mouth curved into a wry smile.
"So he’s trying that."
Frigga was an exceptionally perceptive woman. She understood the situation almost as soon as she saw the brick.
"That isn’t very sporting of him."
Evenson lowered his head slightly.
"Your Majesty misunderstands. The All-Father is simply being prudent."
From his perspective, Odin’s little maneuver was certainly unfair. But he could also understand the reasoning behind it.
Odin was the ruler of Asgard. Many of the artifacts in this vault were strategic assets, weapons of immense power that could determine the fate of entire realms.
A king couldn’t casually hand such things to outsiders just because he’d made an impulsive promise.
Unfortunately for Odin, he’d already given his word.
He couldn’t simply renege without damaging his own reputation. So he’d come up with this rather transparent workaround.
Frigga, however, wasn’t convinced by Evenson’s defense.
"Even so, you’ve been treated unfairly."
She looked at him with a hint of sympathy.
"You saved my life. I won’t stand by and let you leave empty-handed because my husband has decided to be difficult. Here’s what we’ll do."
She brought her hands together in a decisive clap, as though she’d just settled a particularly difficult question.
"Go back inside and look around properly. You may choose one of the treasures, provided it isn’t something of overwhelming importance. I’ll speak to the All-Father on your behalf."
Evenson’s eyes lit up.
"Then I must thank Your Majesty in advance."
But Frigga wasn’t finished.
She turned toward the gold brick and tapped it disdainfully with her hand.
"And take that thing with you when you leave. Consider it a personal gift from me. Surely you won’t accuse me of being stingy?"
Evenson’s expression brightened.
"Of course not! That’s far too generous..."
Then he stopped.
His smile stiffened.
A moment earlier, he’d been delighted. Now, a familiar sense of dread was creeping into his chest.
He looked at Frigga with a strained smile.
"Your Majesty has already shown me such extraordinary kindness. I’m afraid I don’t know how I could ever repay you."
Evenson wasn’t a novice when it came to being a Warlock.
He’d learned one fundamental lesson about dealing with power, bargains, and things that seemed too good to be true.
Whenever a Warlock suddenly found himself drowning in good fortune, there was almost always a reason.
The universe didn’t hand out gifts without expecting something in return.
That enormous gold brick might be one thing, but Frigga was offering him a second treasure as well, and even promising to negotiate with Odin on his behalf.
It was far too generous to accept without suspicion.
Evenson could already feel the trap closing around him.
Frigga definitely wanted something.
And given how suddenly she’d decided to shower him with favors, whatever she had in mind was unlikely to be trivial.
He just hoped the price wouldn’t be higher than the treasures themselves.