Chapter 498: ’The Golden Room.’
Florian really didn’t know what to expect.
Especially when it came to Heinz. Unpredictable, unreadable Heinz Obsidian.
At first, he was merely curious.
’What could Heinz possibly consider a "gift"?’
The thought lingered, circling in his mind as they walked. He couldn’t deny the flicker of anticipation curling in his chest, even if it was tangled with confusion over why Heinz seemed to treat tomorrow as though it were Florian’s real birthday.
But soon that curiosity soured into unease.
Because Heinz wasn’t leading him through any familiar wing of the palace. Instead, they descended into one of the most secluded parts of the kingdom—a place Florian was certain no servant would dare wander.
The silence here was different. Heavy.
The corridors grew darker, narrower. Shadows clung to the walls. The torches were fewer, the air cooler, tinged with the faint scent of stone and metal.
Almost... eerie.
Florian’s pulse quickened with every step. He pressed his lips together, too nervous to ask where exactly Heinz was taking him, too aware of the steady hand at his back that urged him forward.
It wasn’t until they reached it that Florian’s breath caught.
A door. No—more than that. A vault. Its massive surface glimmered faintly with etched runes, secured with steel and reinforced by wards so thick he could almost feel the magic humming against his skin.
His voice wavered when he finally spoke. "Your Majesty... what is this?"
Heinz’s gaze cut toward him, crimson eyes glinting with something Florian couldn’t place. "You’ll see."
Florian’s stomach tightened.
Two knights stood watch before the vault. Their armor gleamed in the dim light, but their faces were unfamiliar—strangers, unlike the guards Florian usually passed in the palace halls.
The moment they spotted Heinz, both straightened sharply, as though an invisible cord had pulled them upright.
"Y-Your Majesty," one of them stammered, voice clipped with formality. His eyes flickered toward Florian, widening slightly. "Welcome... you too, Your Highness, Prince Florian."
The title made Florian’s heart stutter. He gave a stiff nod, but before he could respond, Heinz’s voice rang, smooth and absolute.
"Open the safe."
The knights moved without hesitation. Raising their hands, Florian noticed the rings they wore—bands of dark metal, each set with a pulsing mana stone.
Energy shimmered as their fingers brushed against the carved runes on the vault.
The air thickened. Sparks of blue-white light traced across the engravings like veins awakening, crackling with restrained power.
A deep rumble echoed through the chamber. The heavy locks groaned, gears shifting as ancient mechanisms stirred to life.
Slowly—agonizingly slowly—the door yielded, parting with a hiss of released wards.
Florian’s breath caught in his throat. ’What... what in the world is inside?’
Then Heinz turned to him.
No command, no words this time—just his hand, extended outward.
Florian blinked. ’Uh.’
His gaze darted between Heinz’s steady hand and the knights, who were trying, and failing, to keep their curiosity hidden.
Their eyes lingered on him, as though silently questioning whether he would take it.
His throat bobbed. But still, he placed his hand in Heinz’s.
The moment his palm touched Heinz’s, the king’s grip tightened—firm, possessive. Without a word, Heinz guided him forward, leading him past the knights and into the dark, yawning mouth of the vault.
Their footsteps echoed softly against the stone, the sound swallowed quickly by the vault’s vast silence.
The air grew warmer as they walked, tinged faintly with the metallic tang of something ancient, something precious.
Florian’s fingers tightened around Heinz’s without him realizing, his heartbeat quickening with every step deeper inside.
Then—up ahead—he caught it.
Light.
A faint glow spilling through the darkness, growing brighter the further they went. It pulsed like sunlight trapped underground, beckoning.
And then, all at once, it burst around him.
The moment they crossed the threshold, Florian flinched, his eyes squeezing shut against the brilliance. It was blinding, as if the very walls had been gilded by the sun itself.
When he finally blinked them open, his breath caught.
Gold.
Everywhere.
The chamber stretched out vast and glittering, overflowing with riches that seemed beyond comprehension.
Towers of golden bars stacked neatly in rows, mounds of coins spilling from carved chests, jewelry heaped so thickly they shimmered like starlight caught in waves.
Necklaces heavy with jewels, rings and earrings wrought with impossible detail—all of it gleamed with that intoxicating luster.
Florian stepped forward slowly, his head turning as his wide eyes drank it all in. The sheer scale left him dizzy, as though he had stumbled into some mythical treasure hoard whispered about in bedtime tales.
But it wasn’t until his gaze fell to the center of the room that he forgot how to breathe.
Two crowns.
They rested on elevated pedestals, each encased within flawless glass that reflected their brilliance a hundredfold.
One crown was bold, commanding—its jagged peaks inlaid with blood-red rubies that caught the light like fire.
The other was delicate, elegant, its golden frame adorned with arcs of filigree and sapphires, regal yet refined.
The King’s crown.
The Queen’s crown.
Symbols of power that ruled not just the palace, but the entire kingdom.
Florian’s lips parted soundlessly. "...It’s..."
He trailed off, too overwhelmed to finish.
"It is the Obsidian Golden Room," Heinz’s voice cut smoothly through the stillness. He stood beside Florian, his posture proud, his crimson eyes gleaming in the glow.
Florian looked at him, startled.
"The Obsidian name was not chosen by chance," Heinz continued, his tone even, almost reverent. "Our bloodline has always carried three marks. Black—like obsidian—for our hair. Red—like rubies—for our eyes. And gold... to show our status."
He extended an arm toward the endless treasure surrounding them. "This chamber holds that symbol. Gold enough to remind every generation who we are. What we are."
Florian’s awe deepened, though confusion still pricked at the edges. His voice was soft, almost fragile in the vastness of the room.
"It’s... incredible. Amazing, even. But... why?" His gaze flicked back to Heinz, searching. "Why bring me here?"
"Like I said." Heinz closed the distance between them, his movements unhurried, deliberate. His knuckles brushed against Florian’s cheek, the touch deceptively gentle against heated skin. Crimson eyes bore down into him, sharp and unwavering.
"I’m giving you a gift."