Chapter 579: Treasure Haul

As if sensing their presence, the first row of stone pillars groaned. A massive, interlocking grid of razor-sharp iron scythes dropped from the ceiling, swinging across the path in a rhythmic, deafening cadence. The speed of the pendulum blades left absolutely zero room for error.

“Allow me,” Requiem rumbled.

The heavy warrior stepped forward, unslung his massive greatsword, and timed the swing of the primary blade perfectly. He jammed the reinforced edge of his weapon directly into the central gear mechanism housing the ceiling traps.

The metal screamed under the pressure, sparks flying into the dark as Requiem held the crushing weight of the machinery static using sheer, brute force.

“Move. Now,” Requiem grunted.

Rin darted forward like a shadow, his boots barely making contact with the stone as he bypassed the jammed blades. Lyra followed close behind, laughing as she leaped through a narrow gap between two swinging irons.

Xavier and Reva escorted Kylus across, while Xalvoria simply floated a few inches above the stone floor, her expression a mix of profound boredom and irritation.

Beyond the scythes, the stone floor began to violently shift. Massive pressure blocks slammed downward from the roof, intending to flatten anything beneath them.

Kylus used his enhanced agility to predict the falling blocks, tapping specific tiles to trigger the mechanical resets before the stones could crush the crew.

After navigating the lethal gauntlet of weight traps and hidden dart walls, they reached the true central vault.

A colossal stone archway parted by heavy counterweights rolled backward, revealing a chamber the size of a starship hangar.

The interior was stuffed to the ceiling with priceless treasures. Mountains of physical universal space chips gleamed beneath ancient, self-sustaining luminescent crystals. Rows of secure crates held prototype military shielding generators, illegal dark matter drives, and weapon components that had been banned by the galactic council for decades. Priceless historical artifacts from fallen empires sat carelessly piled on golden pedestals.

“We just found the motherlode,” Lyra whispered, her eyes reflecting the wealth filling the room. “We can buy an entire planetary system with this much loot.”

Reva immediately began scanning the crates of high-grade shielding and drive cores. “This is exactly what the Strider needs. These military prototypes will allow us to easily survive the Abyssal Gate.”

Xavier walked past the piles of gold and credits, his expression turning serious as he began checking the secure physical logging terminals located at the back of the vault.

He was looking for the real prize such as any trace, data log, or coordinates that could lead them to the Demonic Society’s primary mothership or the main fleet.

Kylus joined him, his fingers flying across the ancient mechanical directories. They searched through centuries of corporate bribes, hidden transactions, and secret asset distributions.

Minutes turned into an hour. The crew finished loading the portable gravity crates with the ship upgrades and millions of credits, but Xavier and Kylus remained at the terminal.

Xavier finally stepped back, his face tight. ‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing.’

“There is no record here,” Kylus admitted, his voice laced with heavy disappointment. “Malakor and Lorde had all the wealth in the sector, but they had zero connection to the higher echelons of the Demonic Society. The lead is completely dry. There is no mention of the mothership’s current location.”

Xalvoria crossed her arms, her golden eyes scanning the empty digital monitors. ‘A waste of a perfectly good dress.’

“Did you truly believe common corporate thieves would possess the sacred fragments of the Goddess? You have acquired your trivial ship parts, human. Let us leave this hole.”

Xavier adjusted his jacket, concealing his frustration with a calm mask. “She is right. We got the gear and the funding we needed to upgrade the ship. We will just have to find our next lead the hard way.”

The crew hauled the loaded gravity crates onto the pneumatic freight lift and ascended the long shaft back toward the surface. They completely bypassed the chaotic upper levels of the city, utilizing Malakor’s compromised security grid to slip directly into the VIP hangar where the Strider waited in the shadows.

“Get these crates secured in the lower hold,” Xavier ordered, tapping the ramp controls. “Viola, start running diagnostics on the new shielding generators. I want them integrated into the primary power core before we leave orbit.”

Rin hauled the heavy equipment up the incline while Lyra tossed a solid gold artifact between her hands. Xavier leaned against the landing gear, satisfied with the haul despite missing the mothership coordinates. ‘We have the funds and the tech. The rest is just a matter of hunting.’

A deafening screech of tearing metal suddenly echoed from above.

The hangar’s emergency ceiling chute blasted open. A battered, single-occupant atmospheric pod plummeted through the gap, trailing thick black smoke.

It slammed onto the polished concrete landing pad, skidding violently and throwing a massive shower of sparks before crashing into a stack of empty cargo containers right in front of the dreadnought.

Reva instantly shouldered her rifle. Lyra dropped her artifact and summoned a roaring fireball.

Kylus, however, completely froze. His silver eyes locked onto the scorched insignia painted on the side of the pod.

‘That is a Vanguard logistics marker,’ Kylus realized, his heart hammering against his ribs. ‘But my entire team was slaughtered.’

He dropped his gear and sprinted across the concrete. “Hold your fire! That is one of my ships!”

Kylus reached the smoking pod and gripped the emergency release lever. The metal was warped from the impact, refusing to budge.

He drew his thermal cutter, ignited the glowing blade, and sliced cleanly through the locking hinges. He kicked the heavy hatch away and reached inside the ruined cockpit.

He pulled out a severely wounded Aurelian man wearing the tattered remains of a logistics uniform. The man was covered in burns, and a dark violet residue clung to his armor that was the unmistakable rot of Abyssal magic.

“Luper,” Kylus breathed, lowering his former crewmate to the ground. “You survived the ambush. How are you here?”

Luper coughed violently, blood staining his lips. He grabbed the collar of Kylus’s suit with trembling fingers. “Tracked your… your custom signal signature. I barely escaped the singularity trap. Hid in the debris field until I could patch the sub-light drive.”