The black slate chest felt surprisingly heavy in Kyle's gauntleted hand, not because of its physical mass, but due to the sheer density of condensed spatial mana sealed within its iron-bound seams.
Instead of immediately forcing the latch, Kyle let his thumb drag across the raised runes on the lid. The moment his Demon Knight core resonated with the box, the heavy iron lock dissolved into a fine mist of grey powder, and the lid swung open with a quiet, pneumatic hiss.
Inside lay two items resting on a bed of dark violet velvet.
The first was a ring forged from dark, iridescent celestial slate, inlaid with a single, unbroken filament of liquid gold that pulsed like a quiet heartbeat. The second was a thick, heavy scroll bound in white drake-hide, its edges singed by ancient lightning and sealed with a heavy wax stamp bearing the crest of the Spire's original architects.
