Rise of the F-Rank Hero-Chapter 161: Pack up

There were three bookshelves, but they were bare. Dust motes danced in the light. There was nothing on the floor. No chest. No gold. Just empty wood.

"What is this?" Jason asked, his voice echoing in the small room.

"It’s empty," Ren said, running a hand over a dusty shelf. "There’s nothing here."

The atmosphere shifted instantly. The adrenaline of the discovery turned into cold frustration.

"We went through all that hell," Jason turned to Oliver, his face twisting in anger. "We lost men. I lost my arm—well, almost. For an empty room?"

"Did you take it?" Ren accused, stepping forward. "You were here first. Did you stash the loot?"

"Use your brain," Oliver sighed, leaning against the wall. "Look at the dust. Look at the shelves. If I took it, where would I put it? Do you see a convoy of wagons behind me? Or do you think I shoved a library up my ass?"

"Dimensional bags exist!" Jason argued.

"Not ones big enough for a whole library," Oliver lied smoothly. "Besides, would I have brought you guys here if I had already cleaned it out? I would have just left and let you wander the jungle."

"Then... it was for nothing?" Lisa whispered, looking dejected.

"Who said for nothing?" Oliver smirked. "You guys come to conclusions very fast. You lack observation."

He walked over to the bookshelf he had punched earlier (which he had magically repaired with a quick Mending spell before they arrived, leaving just the mechanism trigger).

"The Archmage was paranoid," Oliver explained. "This room is a decoy."

He pressed the hidden switch.

Clack. Creeeaaak!

The bookshelf slid aside, revealing the hidden chamber and the glowing portal.

"A teleportation portal? Here?" Daniel gasped. "How is it still active after centuries? The mana upkeep alone would be astronomical."

"There is too much for you guys to comprehend about ancient magic," Isolde scoffed, flipping her dried hair. "Stop asking questions and just accept that you’re out of your depth."

Oliver stepped onto the platform. The runes hummed to life.

"This leads to the vault," Oliver said. "I haven’t been inside yet. Wanted to wait for the team."

Another lie. A beautiful, generous lie.

"Ready?"

He stepped through the blue ripple.

The others hesitated for a second, then rushed after him.

ZING.

They materialized in a massive, cavernous vault.

And then, every jaw in the group hit the floor.

It wasn’t just a room. It was a dragon’s wet dream.

A literal hill of gold coins rose to the ceiling. Chests overflowed with gems—rubies, sapphires, emeralds the size of fists. Armor stands displayed glowing, pristine sets of mythril and adamantite gear. There were piles of ancient grimoires, weapons that hummed with elemental power, and artifacts that pulsed with divine light.

It was blinding. It was overwhelming.

"Oh my god..." Jason fell to his knees, grabbing a handful of coins. "It’s real. It’s all real."

~~~~

The vault echoed with the clatter of metal and the giddy laughter of people who had just become wealthier than small nations.

"Look at this!" Jason shouted, holding up a broadsword that shimmered with a faint red aura. "A Flame-Tongue Blade! This is easily A-rank!"

"And this staff!" Sophia gasped, clutching a rod made of white wood. "It reduces mana consumption by 15%! It’s a lost artifact from the Golden Age!"

Ren was knee-deep in a pile of gems, letting rubies run through his fingers like water. "We’re rich. We’re actually filthy, stinking rich."

Even the Knights, usually disciplined, were wide-eyed. They weren’t looting for themselves—that was treason—but they knew the protocol. Recovering a haul this size meant a reward of at least 5% of the total value distributed among the squad. For a commoner knight, that was enough to buy a manor and retire in luxury.

"Careful with the grimoires!" Lisa scolded Daniel, who was shoving books into a sack. "Those are ancient texts! They might crumble!"

"They’re preserved with stasis magic, they’re fine!" Daniel grinned, looking like a kid on Christmas.

Oliver stood near the entrance, leaning against a pillar, watching the frenzy with a calm, benevolent smile.

Suddenly, a cold hand gripped his bicep and yanked him into the shadows behind a large statue.

"Master," Isolde purred, her crimson eyes narrowing as she looked him up and down. "We need to talk."

"About what?" Oliver asked innocently.

Isolde gestured to the pile of loot being ravenously consumed by the Heroes.

"I didn’t know you were so... magnanimous," she whispered, her tone dripping with skepticism. "I thought for sure you would have swept this place clean. You’re not exactly the type to share your prey."

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Did you hit your head during the fall? Or are you feeling pity for the ’Heroes’?"

Oliver chuckled softly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening.

"Oh, I did take it," Oliver whispered back.

Isolde blinked. She looked at the mountain of gold, then back at him. She wasn’t surprised. A slow, knowing smirk spread across her red lips.

"I knew it."

"I just left enough to satisfy them," Oliver explained, tapping the ring on his finger. "Think about it. If they found an empty room, they’d tear the place apart looking for a secret mechanism. They might even find the real hidden compartments I didn’t open. Or worse, the Empire would interrogate us for weeks."

He gestured to Jason, who was currently kissing the crossguard of his new sword.

"But give a dog a bone, and he stops barking. They see this gold, and their brains turn off. They think they won the jackpot."

Oliver’s eyes gleamed with a dark satisfaction.

"In reality, I have something even more precious than these gold and silver trinkets."

"Oh?" Isolde raised an eyebrow.

"The Legacy," Oliver whispered. "I kept most of the S-rank artifacts, the Forbidden Grimoires, and the spatial ring itself. The things out there? That’s the rejects pile. B-rank weapons, standard gold, generic history books."

He patted his chest, where the ring (and the panties) were safely stored.

"The value of what I have in my pocket is worth ten times that entire hill out there. Knowledge is power, Isolde. And I took all of it."

Isolde let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. She reached out and straightened his collar, her eyes full of admiration.

"You really are a villain, aren’t you?"

"I prefer ’pragmatic survivor’," Oliver winked.

*****

It took three hours to pack everything.

Even with the Heroes’ dimensional bags, they ran out of space. They had to get creative.

"Use the supply sacks!" Gerrick ordered his men. "Dump the rations! We don’t need dried meat when we have diamonds! Fill the water barrels with gold coins!"

"Yes, sir!"

By the time they were done, every single person was laden with heavy bags. The Heroes looked like pack mules, but not a single one complained.

Jason walked with a swagger, despite having three bags strapped to his back.

"With this," Jason said, patting his loot, "I can commission a custom armor set from the Dwarf King himself. No more melting shields."

"I can finally fund my research tower," Sophia beamed, hugging a stack of spellbooks.

Amy walked over to Oliver. She had a small, modest bag over her shoulder. She hadn’t taken much gold. Instead, she had focused on gathering the medical herbs and holy texts Oliver had left behind.

"Are you ready to go?" Amy asked, smiling up at him.

"Yeah," Oliver said. "We’re done here."

"I’m glad," Amy said, looking at the portal. "I don’t care about the gold. I’m just glad you’re coming back with us."

She took his hand, interlacing her fingers with his.

"Let’s go home, Oliver."

Oliver squeezed her hand back.

"Yeah. Let’s go."