After satisfying their curiosity about the dinosaur people’s murals, the young man and the small yellow cat exchanged silent glances. With a quick, mutual nod, they began their work.
Vlad drew his sword, channeling a faint aura of dark energy along its blade, while Jormungandr conjured a thin plasma edge in his paw. Without wasting any further ti, they approached the towering stone pillars lining the main hall, and after making sure there were no runic traps, they began to work.
It was clear that the pillars themselves were made of exceptionally valuable stone that could fetch an excellent price back at the Golden Sky Fortress.
Since there were no living Dino People left to preserve their cultural heritage, neither Vlad nor Jormungandr felt any hesitation in dismantling these artifacts. Their logic was straightforward: to them, these pillars were resources—and resources were there to be claid.
With swift, precise slashes, the pair sliced through the columns, which offered little resistance to their enhanced weapons. Once each section toppled free, the stones were transferred into their space rings.
"That takes care of the pillars," Vlad remarked, turning to Jormungandr. Small beads of sweat traced down his temple, more from caution than from physical exertion.
"Indeed," the little yellow cat replied, letting his plasma blade vanish. "They should sell for a fortune."
Vlad nodded, then glanced toward a branching corridor. "Let’s split up to cover more ground. I’ll take the right hall, and you take the left. Call if you run into anything tricky."
"Got it," Jormungandr responded, flashing a confident grin before padding off down the corridor.
Vlad moved with deliberate speed through the corridors, constantly monitoring his surroundings. His A.I. Chip remained on high alert for magical traps or sudden spikes of energy that might signal an automated defense system. Though the structure was deserted, trusting appearances in such an ancient place would be reckless.
The walls along this corridor were adorned with paintings—portraits of formidable dinosaur warriors and majestic natural phenona. Yet Vlad, uninterested in re artistic value, passed them by without much thought. He was after tangible wealth, not art.
Eventually, Vlad found himself at the entrance to a large chamber. Noticing no imdiate guardians or obvious wards, he carefully pushed the heavy doors open. Inside, he discovered an impressive hall, its walls lined with enormous murals depicting legendary battles. One scene portrayed a conflict against celestial invaders, where the Dino People defended their world with savage and primal might. Another showcased a valiant stand against monstrous beasts wielding chaotic power.
The fights depicted on these murals were epic, even by Vlad’s standards. Despite his awe, Vlad’s eyes were soon drawn to rows of pedestals beneath each mural.
On these pedestals lay various relics: ancient weapons rumored to belong to fallen heroes, skulls of defeated enemies, and other keepsakes that commorated glorious victories. Their historical significance for the Dino People must have been imnse. For Vlad, however, the value was more practical—he saw items with strong magical signatures or high-grade materials that could be restored and sold for an astronomical price.
"Hahaha. Aweso!" Vlad exclaid, letting a hint of excitent seep into his normally composed deanor. The euphoria of discovering potent relics sent a thrill through his veins.
He approached the nearest pedestal but didn’t allow his excitent to cloud his judgnt. Imdiately, he commanded his A.I. Chip to scan the area.
[Beep! Runic formation detected. Pedestal protected by defensive wards.]
Vlad’s smile flickered at the warning. A solemn expression took its place as he refocused on the task of safely retrieving these artifacts. He edged closer to the mural behind the pedestal, examining it with studious care.
This particular painting illustrated a massive army of Dino People and dragons locked in lethal combat. Blood and fire raged across the battlefield. At the apex of the mural, a colossal, humanoid triceratops shattered the skull of a gigantic dragon with a giant hamr, exuding the aura of a true champion. Beneath the heroic figure, elegant script read:
"World King Severus slaying Asmator, the Dragonkin Warlord who invaded Jurassic."
Vlad’s eyes widened at the text. The language had already been decoded by his A.I. Chip, granting him partial insight into the Dino People’s proud history.
"So, the original na of this world was ’Jurassic.’ Interesting," he muttered, letting his gaze drift to the battered mace on the pedestal, rusted but unmistakably infused with lingering traces of Legendary energy. "If this belonged to the World King, then this organization must have been at the apex in the Jurassic World before its downfall."
Despite his amazent, Vlad never let his guard down. Extending a hand, he released a focused wave of energy to probe the runic formation guarding the pedestal. A shimring web of sigils beca visible around it, faint lines revealing the trap that would spring if soone touched the mace without dispelling the ward.
"This looks about as complicated as the formations on the inner ring gates," he noted, "but thankfully on a smaller scale, so it shouldn’t take too long."
Reaching into his extensive Runic Arts knowledge, he ticulously unraveled the protective array. His A.I. Chip guided him through a step-by-step disarmant, highlighting which threads of energy to sever or reroute, making the job easier. After about five minutes of intense concentration, the lines of light flickered once, then died out.
With a triumphant grin, Vlad lifted the broken weapon—the hamr of "World King Severus"—and placed it inside his space ring. No matter how degraded, an artifact of that caliber would doubtlessly command a high price if restored.
Vlad moved on to the next mural, which displayed yet another colossal battle, but this ti, the Dino People appeared to be descending upon a demonic fortress. Above them, swirling portals hinted that they had arrived from the sky. Their adversaries were fiendish creatures led by an obese Abyssal with colossal horns.
A small inscription identified it as:
"The Invasion of the Minor Demon Plane of Hostia."
Reading this, Vlad discerned that the Dino People had already begun dabbling in interplanar conquests, employing the raw might of their warriors to seize new territory. Unfortunately for them, their ho was between two massive civilizations, and they were annihilated.
"I guess ti just wasn’t on their side," Vlad mused quietly.
He refocused on the pedestal in front of the mural, where the frozen head of the Abyssal Overlord lay encased in a block of unlting ice. It emanated faint, sinister energy—a grim trophy of that ancient conquest. Once more, Vlad detected a runic formation. Concentrating, he gradually deactivated it and added the encased head to his collection.
He repeated this process across a series of murals, each depicting a significant conflict that underscored the Dino People’s prowess in war.
Eventually, Vlad arrived at the final mural. The scene illustrated a bloody civil war: Dino People on both sides, locked in fierce combat. However, those on one side of the conflict appeared horribly mutated—their skin marred by putrefaction, their bodies riddled with lesions that seed to augnt their strength rather than hinder it. It was as though a corrupting plague had twisted them into grotesque but formidable warriors who sought to take this world for themselves.
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