MTLNOVEL Chapter 162: The Vault
The morning sun was just cresting over Diagon Alley as Cael made his way down the cobbled streets toward the Leaky Cauldron. His mind was racing, but his steps were light. Last night's discovery—the journal, the hidden legacy, his mother's story—still weighed heavily on him, but today was about securing his foundation.
A home.
As he pushed open the door to the Leaky Cauldron, the familiar scent of old ale, woodsmoke, and roasted food greeted him. Behind the bar, Tom, the old, bald innkeeper, looked up from wiping a mug, his bushy eyebrows raising.
"Well, how's it, lad? You find yourself a place yet?" Tom called over, his voice rough but friendly.
Cael gave a small, satisfied smirk. "Yeah. Found a house. My house, actually. I'll be moving in today."
Tom's eyes twinkled with curiosity, but he didn't pry. "Good for you. Nothing like having your own roof over your head." He leaned closer. "You still need the room for the night?"
Cael shook his head. "No, I'll refund it now. I'll grab my things and be off."
He retrieved his small bag—the few belongings he had—and handed Tom the keys. But as he was preparing to leave, the system's familiar voice chimed in his mind:
"Host, suggestion: Before heading home, visit Gringotts Bank. There may be information regarding your mother's vault. If she left assets behind, they're yours by right."
Cael paused, blinking. The bank… Of course. His hand clenched slightly around the journal in his pocket. Why didn't I think of that sooner?
With renewed determination, he stepped back out onto the bustling street and made his way toward Gringotts—the grand, marble structure looming at the end of Diagon Alley, guarded by sharp-eyed goblins.
Inside, the hall was busy as usual. Goblins perched behind towering desks, gold and silver clinking faintly in the air. Wizards bustled in and out, some carrying coin pouches, others engaged in quiet, tense conversations.
Cael approached the main counter, where an aged goblin sat, meticulously scratching figures onto a parchment.
"Excuse me," Cael began, clearing his throat.
The goblin's eyes flicked up, sharp as daggers. His mouth twisted into a sneer. "What is it, boy? You're too early for your Hogwarts tuition. Almony day's two months off. Come back then."
Cael shook his head firmly. "I'm not here for that. I need to check if my mother left a vault behind."
The goblin arched a thin, disbelieving brow. "Vault key?"
Cael hesitated. "I… I don't have it."
The goblin's sneer deepened. "No key, no access. Simple rules, boy. Move along."
But Cael's mind worked quickly. He leaned in, lowering his voice, his expression sharpening. "I need access to my mother's vault. If I can't have it… well, I'll have to ask one of the old pure-blood families to intervene. Surely, you understand the mess that could cause?"
The goblin froze, then threw his head back, laughing harshly—a rasping, guttural sound that echoed across the marble floor. "You? A Muggle-raised brat, playing pure-blood games?" His laughter wheezed on for several seconds before he finally leaned forward again, eyes glittering with amusement. "Fine. You've entertained me. Who was your mother?"
Cael exhaled carefully. "First, I want assurances. I don't want my identity—or hers—getting out. You know what dangers that brings."
The goblin's expression instantly darkened. His voice turned razor-sharp. "Are you suggesting Gringotts leaks client information? You dare question our… discretion?"
Cael raised his hands, cautious but calm. "It's not an accusation. Just… paranoia. I've seen enough to be careful. That's all."
A tense pause. Then the goblin's sneer returned, amused but watchful. "It better be mere caution, boy. Now—speak."
"My mother," Cael said quietly, "was Elara Black."
The goblin froze. His pen halted mid-stroke, fingers stiffening around the parchment. His sharp eyes studied Cael's features—the raven-dark hair, the ice-blue eyes.
"You wait here," the goblin muttered finally. "Verification is required."
He scribbled a note, then barked, "Up the stairs—ask for Griphook. She'll test your blood. If you truly bear Elara Black's lineage… the vault is yours."
Cael nodded his thanks and climbed the staircase to the upper offices.
A female goblin, wearing small spectacles and reading through dusty ledgers, glanced up as he approached. "What is it?"
"I'm here for a blood test," Cael explained. "Elara Black's vault."
Her expression barely shifted, but she flipped through a stack of files, fingers deftly sorting parchment. After a moment, she produced an aged folder and opened it, scanning the contents.
"Hand," she ordered briskly.
Cael offered his palm. She pricked his finger with a sharp silver needle, collecting a single drop of blood, which she placed onto an intricate alchemical device.
The runes on the device pulsed briefly—then glowed with a soft, green plus symbol.
"Confirmed," she stated. She stamped a parchment, handed it to him, and pointed back toward the main hall. "Return this to the teller."
Cael descended, handing the proof to the goblin at the front counter.
The goblin read the parchment, then regarded Cael with a new glint of respect—and calculation.
"So, you truly are her son," the goblin murmured. With a flick of his fingers, a bronze key materialized, engraved with vault numbers. He handed it to Cael. "Vault 1203. Escort!" he barked, and a goblin guard stepped forward to accompany Cael.
The journey into Gringotts' depths was as unsettling as ever—twisting tunnels, rattling carts, the cold wind whipping through as they hurtled downward, deeper into the ancient, stone-walled underbelly of the bank.
Finally, they stopped before a towering iron vault door.
The goblin gestured. "The key."
Cael inserted it. The heavy door groaned open, revealing the vault's glittering contents.
Mountains of gold, silver, and bronze coins gleamed under torchlight. The goblin scribbled a note. "38,573 Galleons," he announced. "Would you like to make a withdrawal?"
Cael's eyes widened slightly. More than enough for years, he thought, stunned by the fortune his mother had hidden away.
He filled a pouch with 1,000 Galleons, slipping it securely under his robes, and exited the vault.
By midday, he was shopping across Diagon Alley—furnishings, appliances, essentials for his newly claimed home. He arranged for deliveries, paying extra for magical transport to his remote cottage near Ottery St. Catchpole.
With his belongings gathered and his pockets heavier, Cael finally made his way home.
Two major problems solved, he thought with quiet satisfaction. A house. Financial security. His mother had given him both, even in death.
But his moment of peace was short-lived.
The system's voice chimed again:
"Host—New Quest Unlocked: Legacy of the Six, Part I."
A glowing prompt appeared before his eyes:
Quest Objective: Infiltrate the Ministry of Magic—Department of Mysteries. Locate and steal the Door Key to the hidden legacy of one of the Six Founders of the Old Magical Council.
Reward: Unknown. Quest Chain Progression.
Cael exhaled heavily, rubbing his temple.
"Infiltrate the Ministry?" he muttered. "Are you insane? That's… practically impossible."
The system's voice remained calm:
"Incorrect. Review historical precedent. Recall: Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger—successfully infiltrated Ministry of Magic using Polyjuice-based identity theft. You may replicate this method."
Cael paused, considering. "Use Polyjuice… I'd need a target." He frowned. "Arthur Weasley?" But the thought soured instantly. "No. That'd bring too much heat down on him."
He paced the cottage, gears turning.
"First step… brew Polyjuice," he decided. "That takes a month to brew properly. I'll start now—and find my target before it's ready."
His eyes narrowed, determination returning.
"Legacy or not," Cael muttered, gripping his wand, "I'll finish what my mother started."