Lord: Starting from a Goblin Nest

”Another Elf,” Aive said, looking at the Elf corpse that had been dragged out. ”She couldn’t have been a resident of Green Swamp Town, could she?”

”Probably not. Even if the cave she was buried in was perfectly sealed, it’s unlikely she would be preserved to this degree,” Victoria said, frowning as she cast Communication with the Dead on the corpse. ”It’s no use. The body is too damaged to meet the requirements for the spell.”

”Communication with the Dead requires the corpse to have a mouth, at the very least.”

”Looks like we’ll have to search her for answers, then,” Ron said, pulling a pair of gloves from his bag and putting them on. ”Fortunately, the valuables she was carrying aren’t so easily destroyed by decay. Gold Coins, Gemstones, emeralds... and what’s this?”

Ron cleared away the dirt beneath the corpse, revealing a Magic Staff nearly two meters long.

”It’s been treated to resist rot and rust,” Ron said, examining the intricate, unworn patterns on the Magic Staff. Thanks to his study of Enchantment, he could now perform a basic assessment of Magic Items without relying on Identification Magic. ”There’s a trigger on the prismatic crystal at the tip. If you use it to fire Magic, the Magic should shoot from this crystal.”

The two-meter-long Magic Staff looked quite stately under the glow of the Light Magic. It was crafted from ancient oak, its surface smooth and sturdy, and carved with exquisite, intricate patterns and symbols that shimmered with a faint light. The staff was perfectly straight and slender. Viewed through the lens of Detection Magic, it emanated an ancient and serene, dark-green Spiritual Light.

A bright crystal was set in the tip of the Magic Staff, emitting a soft glow and encircled by delicate, runic patterns. As Ron took it in his hand, each symbol flashed with a mysterious light, as if whispering of ancient Mysteries.

”The Count’s Scepter of Von Richthofen,” Ron read aloud the text that appeared after he opened his Weaving Introduction and cast Identification Magic. ”The Richthofen crystal at the scepter’s tip can release Richthofen Dark Magic three times a day for ten minutes at a time. Within the area affected by this Dark Magic variant, the wielder can cast High-level Invisibility Technique, Withering Magic, and Gaseous Form once per day each, just like a true Vampire.”

”Silvia, this seems perfect for you.”

”It’s nothing special,” the Vampire Descendant said, taking the scepter from Ron. ”I’m not fond of the design, and besides, I can already produce these effects on my own.”

”Now, if it let me enter other people’s homes without an invitation and removed my sensitivity to running water and sunlight, that would be something.”

”Now you’re just asking for the impossible,” Victoria laughed. ”Most Vampires can’t even solve those problems for themselves. How could anyone create Magic Items with those kinds of effects?”

But even though the scepter couldn’t meet Silvia’s demands, it seemed to react to her words. The entire scepter immediately shrank, transforming into a Walking Stick perfectly suited to Silvia’s frame.

”Wearable or wieldable Magic Items often adapt to their user, but I’ve never heard of a Transformation this dramatic,” Ron said, staring in amazement at the Walking Stick before glancing at the Weaving Introduction in his own hands. ”Can you change into other forms?”

The Spellbook vibrated a few times in Ron’s hand before falling silent again.

”I guess not,” Ron said, shaking his head in disappointment.

”Not all races are like the Blood Race, blindly pursuing such flashy yet impractical things,” Silvia said, casually swinging the Walking Stick. Then, she caught sight of a line of small text engraved on its pommel. ”What’s this?”

”It’s in the Elf Language. ’For my beloved daughter’,” Aive said, leaning in for a closer look. ”It seems that Count Von-what’s-his-name intended this scepter as a gift for his daughter.”

”And he was probably an Elf himself,” Silvia added.

”Von what? Could you say that again?” Aiksuuri asked from where he was crouched, examining the corpse. He had turned the Elf’s body over and found a tattoo on a patch of skin on her back that hadn’t fully decomposed. It looked like a surname, but the prefix, the ”Von,” was blurry and indistinct.

”Von Richthofen,” Ron repeated. ”Did you find a clue?”

”I sure did! This Elf has the same last name as the scepter’s owner!” Aiksuuri exclaimed in surprise. ”Hey, Vampire, get over here and take a look! Is this one of your kind?”

”Vampire Descendant. I only have half-Vampire blood,” Silvia corrected him, annoyed, as she knelt down. ”Besides, how am I supposed to tell? Her jaw is completely gone.”

If the Elf still had an intact mouth, Victoria would have been able to use Communication with the Dead without a problem.

”No obvious fangs. She’s not a Half-blood or a Vampire,” Silvia said, carefully examining the Elf corpse’s fragile skull, which looked like it could fall apart at any moment. ”But that doesn’t mean she has no blood ties to that Count.”

The birth of a Half-blood was an exceedingly rare event to begin with. Furthermore, due to their innate Undead bloodline, even if they managed to have children, their offspring would belong to a normal race.

”But either way, that’s probably why she risked coming here to find the scepter,” Aiksuuri said. ”She must have misjudged how soft the earth was and accidentally got buried alive.”

As Ron and the others explored the area around the vault, they soon discovered an old, crudely dug tunnel. It seemed that was how the Elf had gotten in.

”Impressive that she made it this far,” Ron said, glancing at the Personification Monster in the corner. ”To die buried in a tunnel instead of being eaten by that thing.”

”In that case, I suppose I’ll be the one to look after this scepter,” Silvia said, stroking the Walking Stick. ”If I happen to run into any of the family’s descendants in the future, maybe I can trade it for something nice.”

”I wouldn’t count on a Vampire being willing to make a fair trade with the living,” Victoria said, dusting the dirt from her hands.

After confirming there was nothing else of value in the vault, Ron and the others began moving the treasure and books outside. It would have been difficult for their small group to haul everything in one go, but fortunately, they had a ready-made laborer: the Vine Monster.

”Move all the treasure to the surface, then return to your original post.” Ron cast Suggestion Magic on the Vine Monster again to give it the command. The creature obediently extended its tendrils, swept the vault’s vast riches into its body, and then lumbered unsteadily toward the surface.