Chapter 42: The Camp

Staring at the dazzling piles of gold coins and crystals, Rebecca, Amber, and Sir Byron all froze, unsurprised but stunned.

Byron had seen so-called deep mountain treasures back when he was a mercenary, but those dusty, dull antiques were nothing compared to the rune-warded military supplies before them. Rebecca, a fallen noble from the countryside, had never seen so many treasures even in her family’s castle. And Amber—well, from the perspective of a dedicated, professional thief—this was the first time she felt she might not be able to clear out everything here…

Of course, beyond their stunned silence, curiosity crept in. Many of these items were standard-issue gear from the Gondor era, relying heavily on the empire’s advanced magical technology. After the founding of Ansu, such equipment brought by the pioneers gradually broke down—some ran out of power after use. Today, Gondor’s ancient weapons were so obscure that even history books barely mentioned them. So these dazzling supplies in the warehouse were utterly unfamiliar to them.

But for Miss Amber, the mechanics behind these items didn’t matter—what mattered was that they looked incredibly valuable!

“Gondor gold coins… shield emblem silver coins… and real three-leaf clover gold coins! Oh my god!” Amber dashed over to the chest filled with coins, nearly burying her head in the pile. “Money! It’s all money! We’re rich! Boss, boss, we’re rich!!”

When broke, she was all prim and proper; when money appeared, she was suddenly the boss. Such a drastic change truly lived up to her title as the “Elf of Shame.”

Gawain reached out and pulled Amber away from the coins, grabbing her by the collar at the back of her neck. “Calm down, calm down—this money is mine, not yours!”

Amber struck a righteous pose. “As your most loyal follower, what’s yours is mine!”

“These gold and silver coins are actually the least valuable things here. The real treasure is the crystals,” Gawain said with a dismissive shrug, explaining these utterly unfamiliar relics to them. “The unprocessed crystal ore piled outside the chests is raw magical material. Rebecca, as a mage, you should recognize it—it needs refining before use, but it’ll definitely come in handy. Inside the chests are standard-issue military crystals from Gondor. They’re simple to use and could boost the soldiers’ combat power for a long time. The swords and armor, though, are a problem… I checked earlier, and their condition isn’t great, especially the magical mechanisms—they’re almost all broken. How much fighting power they can still provide is unclear.”

Though the warehouse was sealed with runes to slow metal oxidation and rust, the magical mechanisms inside constantly deteriorated and leaked energy. While they had long “shelf lives,” seven centuries was still too long. Not only the weapons and armor, but even the military crystals in the chests had varying degrees of energy loss. The energy inside now was probably less than a third of what they had fresh from the factory, and these antiques had high failure rates.

Still, for the penniless Cecil family, this was an astonishing fortune.

So even though Gawain emphasized the poor condition of the items, Rebecca and Amber’s eyes shone brightly.

“Such an enormous fortune…” Sir Byron felt his mouth go dry. “Just lying quietly on the kingdom’s border… and no one knew about it…”

“In some ways, I have to thank the Mistmoon Rebellion a hundred years ago,” Gawain shook his head. “When the Morn family still guarded this treasure, the magical tide blocked people from exploring here. After the tide receded, the Moens had already lost their lineage. Ah, fate…”

Though he spoke of fate, what Gawain truly lamented was the closed, backward feudal system—where all wealth belonged to kings and lords, and the lifeblood of the nation was privately held by a few families. If a family’s line died out, their treasures became ownerless in the wilderness. How absurd!

If the Morn family had properly recorded these treasures on paper and stored them in the archives, with only the royal family holding the keys, these treasures might never have come to him. After the Mistmoon Rebellion, the weakened royal family would have surely coveted them.

But, well, isn’t this kind of lost family treasure in the deep mountains just a classic medieval trope?

Rebecca’s gaze swept over the ancient equipment and crystals, finally settling on a chest of gold and silver coins. She exhaled deeply. “With this, we can pay off Viscount Andrew’s debts and buy food and stone…”

Gawain glanced at her and shook his head. “No, you can’t spend this money directly.”

“Huh?” Rebecca blinked, but she wasn’t stupid and quickly caught on. “Because they’re antiques?”

“Exactly. If you walk around with a pile of seven-hundred-year-old Gondor gold and silver coins trying to buy things, even the dumbest person will guess the Cecil family just dug up a treasure in these dark mountains,” Gawain nodded. “At least for now, while we’re still establishing ourselves, we can’t just flaunt these things.”

“So what do we do?” Rebecca frowned. “We really need money now…”

“Simple. Even if you change their form, gold is still gold, silver is still silver. Thank the gods for the age of precious metal trade,” Gawain smiled brightly, but his words made Amber’s heart skip a beat. “Melt them down.”

“Whaaat?!” The half-elf nearly jumped up. “Do you know what you’re saying? Melt them?! These are seven-hundred-year-old ancient gold and silver coins! Even if you sell them on the black market as antiques, that’s better than melting them!”

“These are seven-hundred-year-old coins, preserved like new. More importantly, many are completely lost ancient imperial currencies, only seen in books,” Gawain looked at Amber with the same gentle eyes he usually reserved for Rebecca. “Selling one or two is fine, but try selling all six chests. If you come back alive, I’ll give you a whole chest as a reward!”

Amber gritted her teeth, ready to haul a chest and run, but when she saw Gawain’s arm thicker than her thigh, she swallowed her bold and cheeky idea.

Still, she tried to bargain: “You can’t melt them all… that’s such a waste…”

“Of course, only part of them,” Gawain spread his hands. “If I melted all these antiques, I’d feel bad too. We’ll recast some coins to solve our immediate problems, and keep the rest sealed for when they might be useful.”

Amber finally relaxed, and Gawain turned to Rebecca with a smile. “Now you know why I insisted on keeping my Duke of Cecil title back at Silverfort, right?”

Rebecca blinked. “Huh?”

“Duh! Dukes have the right to mint coins!” Amber’s eyes widened, then she spun to Gawain. “So you planned all along to melt these antiques, didn’t you?!”

“You could say that,” Gawain admitted without hesitation. “I’m now an unprecedented duke without land, still starting from scratch. But even without territory, the privileges that come with the title are legally ‘naturally’ mine. Minting coins is just one of them.”

Amber puffed out her cheeks, finally sighing, “You old noble families really know how to play the game—those bumpkin nobles who just dig holes in their lands and extort merchants can’t compare.”

Gawain’s only reply: “Look further ahead. Even this entire treasure trove is nothing compared to the future.”

He then instructed Byron and Rebecca to each pack some crystals and coins before preparing to leave.

The treasure vault was now under their control, but they couldn’t put everything to use just yet. First, they had to establish the camp below. Then, trusted soldiers would transport the most important items—especially weapons and armor—from the vault to the camp in batches. They also needed to assign guards to the vault. Though protected by a magical door, now that they had found it, they couldn’t leave it unattended in the mountains.

Besides, the ancient warrior outside the ruins needed a proper burial. A pile of rubble was no grave. Now that people from the civilized world had returned to this land, the fallen hero deserved a decent resting place.

After resealing the vault with a platinum disk, Gawain and his group left the site.

The camp near the riverbank was still bustling with activity but nearing completion.

Sir Byron and Sir Philip had purchased a large batch of tents in Tansan Town—actually just canvas and wood for tent construction. Once on site, they still needed to assemble them into temporary shelters. Fortunately, the vanguard’s first group were skilled craftsmen, so the tents went up quickly. Heddy also lent a hand with some auxiliary spells, and the camp was beginning to take shape.

Following Gawain’s earlier plan, all tents were set up on the south side of the Whitewater River, roughly forming a fan shape. Food, ironware, and other vital supplies were stored in the camp’s center, while prefabricated lumber was stacked by the riverbank. Empty carts and covered wagons were piled around the camp’s perimeter, serving as a temporary barrier until walls could be built. Though the magical tide had receded, this was still a wild, uncivilized mountain range—who knew what beasts might appear?

Near the central tents, Gawain found a thoroughly exhausted Heddy.

He trusted that the ancient crystals would soon revive her spirits.

(End of chapter)