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Chapter – 15
Swish.
Carlyle pulled a dagger from inside his coat.
“…I’m not exactly thrilled about self-harm.”
Muttering to himself, he drew the blade lightly across his palm.
A sharp sting flared, and blood streamed down, quickly filling a small basin placed atop the sink.
Before long, the pooled blood began to flow along a fine groove, tracing a crimson line that stretched toward the stone door.
The same blood-red lines etched themselves into the stone surface, forming a magic circle.
Sssss—!
The moment the circle glowed red—
Rrrrrrrrr!
The firmly sealed stone door rumbled open, revealing a passage that led deeper inside.
So it really does recognize the Sigmund bloodline.
Carlyle pulled a potion from his coat, poured it over his wounded palm, and tightly wrapped it with a bandage.
The pain quickly subsided — the potion’s effects were remarkable.
The wound would likely heal without leaving even a scar.
Step, step.
Carlyle began walking into the stone chamber.
[Notice: You have entered .]
Tap.
The moment he stepped inside, the magic crystal lamps flared to life, illuminating the interior.
[The Forgotten Treasure Vault]
A secret vault created by the ancestors of House Sigmund.
It was built in preparation for the fall of Dekaron and holds items of immense value.
Inside the vault, a variety of items were neatly arranged —
books, potions, luxurious goods, and more.
Carlyle made his way to the far right corner first.
There, a massive glass cabinet stood, filled with all kinds of potions preserved by enchantment.
Let’s see…
His gaze swept over the collection — until it stopped on a potion filled with a milky white liquid.
[Elixir of Vitality]
A rare potion that permanently increases one’s stamina.
Without hesitation, Carlyle uncorked the bottle and gulped it down.
The taste resembled an extremely thick, concentrated sports drink — not pleasant, but tolerable.
[Notice: Stamina permanently increased by 100.]
One bottle wasn’t enough for him.
Gulp, gulp!
Two bottles. Three. Four…
[Notice: Stamina permanently increased by 100.]
[Notice: Stamina permanently increased by 100.]
[Notice: Stamina permanently increased by 100.]
After finishing four bottles, Carlyle had increased his stamina stat by 400 in just five minutes.
Without exaggeration, he could now push his body to exhaustion and still not collapse.
Well, those two will just have to keep training.
A smirk crossed Carlyle’s lips as he thought of Hector and Gunter — the two brothers who trained diligently every morning.
They had no choice but to run and sweat for every ounce of progress.
But Carlyle? He didn’t need to.
Why suffer through grueling training when he could grow stronger effortlessly?
Sorry, Frey.
Carlyle smiled bitterly as he thought of his younger brother, Frey.
This vault was originally prepared for Frey — the game’s main protagonist.
Everything stored here technically belonged to him.
That was why Carlyle hadn’t planned to touch any of it.
But time… was the problem.
I need to survive first.
In just a few months, he would be sent to a land crawling with barbarians.
He didn’t have the luxury to train “the proper way.”
And honestly, he didn’t want to risk running into Hector or Gunter alone.
The thought of being humiliated again was unpleasant, to say the least.
He wasn’t the type to suffer for the sake of pride — not when there was an easier path.
I can always replace what I take later.
With that thought, Carlyle reached for more potions.
[Notice: Strength permanently increased by 100.]
[Notice: Strength permanently increased by 100.]
[Notice: Strength permanently increased by 100.]
Strength, vitality, agility, mana, intelligence —
he drank one potion of each kind.
In the game Overlord, permanent stat-boosting items were exceedingly rare.
Even an item that increased a stat by 50 was valuable —
so one that boosted 100 was practically priceless.
Players in other routes would often trek all the way to Dekaron just to loot this hidden vault early on.
It was one of the few ways to gain massive stats right from the start, and a well-known trick among beginners.
This should do.
Carlyle pocketed a few elixirs as a precaution, leaving the rest behind for Frey.
And then—
Hmm.
His gaze fell upon the stones displayed in the center of the cabinet.
[Stone of Transcendence]
A mystical stone that awakens and amplifies a person’s latent potential.
There were three in total.
One for Frey. I can probably use the other two.
The problem was, he didn’t know what kind of potential his current character — Carlyle van Sigmund — actually had.
If he used a Stone of Transcendence and turned out to have no talent, it would be a complete waste.
Still, let’s try one. You never know.
He slipped one stone into his coat pocket.
Next, he spotted another kind of stone.
[Stone of Mastery]
A mystical stone that enhances the proficiency of a skill or talent.
Better save this for later. It’d be wasted now.
The Stone of Mastery was best used when you’d hit a wall in training —
like the difference between going from level 1 to 2 versus 99 to 100.
That’s enough for today.
Carlyle finished his “excavation” and left the Forgotten Treasure Vault.
On the way back—
“Ah! Young Master!”
“S-salute!”
The knights on patrol hastily saluted as soon as they saw him.
They were the same ones who had been gossiping about him earlier.
“Get down.”
“P-pardon?”
“I said, get down.”
“Uh… what do you mean, sir…”
The knights began sweating nervously.
“That bastard who fainted on the training field… that pathetic stamina…”
“……!”
The words Carlyle spoke were the exact ones they’d said behind his back earlier.
All color drained from their faces.
“You can badmouth me all you want when I’m not around.
But when you get caught, that’s a different story.”
“S-sorry, my lord!”
“Down. Now.”
“Y-yes, young master!”
The knights dropped to the ground in a straight line.
“When I say one, say ‘mouth.’ When I say two, say ‘I’ll be careful.’ One!”
“Mouth!”
“Two!”
“I’ll be careful!”
“One!”
“Mouth!”
“Two!”
“I’ll be careful!”
They obediently followed Carlyle’s commands, performing push-ups as punishment.
As knights, insulting the son of their liege lord was tantamount to breaking their oath of loyalty.
If they were lucky, they’d be docked pay for six months.
Unlucky — they could lose their titles entirely.
“Do it properly. No slacking.”
Carlyle gave the last knight in line a light kick to the side.
Thud, thud!
Like dominoes, all the knights collapsed in a row.
“Y-young master! Argh!”
“Not getting up?”
“M-my ribs— argh!”
“What?”
“M-my ribs are broken… I think…! Hkk!”
The knight Carlyle had kicked let out a wheezing cry of pain.
His armor was dented inward from the impact.
“Y-young master, we need to get him to the infirmary! The broken ribs must’ve punctured a lung!”
“…Oh?”
Carlyle blinked in surprise.
He’d only meant to knock him over —
he hadn’t expected the armor to dent or the ribs to actually break.
Did I drink too many elixirs?
Apparently, his 300-point increase in strength had made him much stronger than he realized.
“Y-young master?”
“Yeah.”
“If we don’t move him quickly—”
“Take him.”
Though startled, Carlyle kept a cold, composed expression.
“Thank you, young master.”
The knights bowed deeply and hurriedly carried their injured comrade to the infirmary.
I’ll need to learn to control my strength.
Carlyle watched them go, thinking that to himself.
His sudden surge in power made control difficult —
and if he wasn’t careful, someone could get seriously hurt again.
And indeed, his concern was justified.
A few hours later—
“Marannello, get me some tea.”
“Yes, young master.”
Carlyle had barely woken up and already needed caffeine —
or whatever passed for it here.
He hadn’t gotten much sleep after his midnight vault excursion.
“Here you are.”
Marannello poured tea into his cup.
Ugh, I’m so tired.
Carlyle rubbed his drowsy eyes and absentmindedly lifted the cup.
Crack.
The handle snapped off.
“…Huh?”
Not just snapped — it crumbled in his hand.
“Young master, are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
As he tried to pick up the cup by its body—
Crash!
It shattered completely.
“Young master!”
Marannello quickly pulled out a handkerchief to wipe away the spilled tea.
“Are you burned?”
“I’m fine. Just clean it up and bring another.”
“Right away.”
The butler replaced the cup with a new one — with the same result.
Crack.
The handle broke off again.
“What in the world…”
Marannello frowned.
Even in his many years of service, he had never seen a teacup break twice in a row like that.
“Marannello.”
“Yes, young master?”
“Bring me a few more cups. No—make it twenty.”
“…Twenty, sir?”
“Just do it.”
“As you wish.”
Carlyle took the stack of new cups and began breaking their handles one by one.
Crack, crack, crack, crack…
Finally, on the thirteenth cup—
Sip.
He managed to lift it without breaking it, and took a victorious sip.
“Young master, what on earth are you doing…?”
“Can’t you tell? I’m training.”
“There’s… training that involves breaking teacups?”
“No.”
Carlyle smirked.
“It’s training not to break them.”
“…Pardon?”
“My strength got too high.”
To prove it, he slammed his fist down on the table.
BANG!
The entire table exploded into splinters.
“…Good heavens.”
Marannello could only stare in disbelief.
