Levi crouched beside the hammer.
He placed both hands on the grip, fingers curling around the worn metal. The moment his skin made contact, warmth pulsed up his arms. Not heat exactly, but presence. Something old stirring awake. It wasn't angry. It wasn't pleased either. It was just aware.
The hammer didn't resist.
Levi's eyes narrowed.
He pulled.
And it came up.
Not slowly. Not with the dramatic resistance he'd been bracing for. It rose smoothly, like it had been waiting for him this whole time.
Stone cracked beneath his feet as the Divine Hammer of Pangu lifted free from its ancient bed. The sound echoed through the vault, sharp and final.
It felt light in his hands. Too light for something that had supposedly crushed priests and defied Grandmasters.
Levi nearly stumbled backward, arms swinging to catch his balance. For a second he thought the hammer had slipped loose and would come crashing down, but it didn't.
It stayed in his hands.
Solid. Silent. Real.
He stared at it.
No cosmic pressure crushing his chest. No divine voice thundering in his skull. No lightning. No fire. Nothing.
Just a hammer.
A long pause stretched through the vault.
"Huh," he muttered. "Well, that's anticlimactic."
Behind him, a sharp gasp broke the silence.
Genga collapsed to his knees, beard still singed from earlier, eyes wide and wet with emotion.
"You did it," the dwarf whispered, voice shaking. "You actually lifted it."
Then the trembling broke into full sobs.
"You lifted it!" Genga cried, throwing his arms wide. "You saved us!"
Tears streamed down his soot-stained face. He looked like a father watching his son win a championship after years of failure.
"Five thousand years!" he choked out. "Seven guildmasters tried! One of them died of shame! And you just walked in and—"
His voice cracked. He covered his face with both hands, shoulders shaking.
Reya stood frozen near the entrance, hands clasped in front of her chest. Her expression was somewhere between awe and disbelief.
"It really moved," she breathed. "After all this time, it actually moved."
Levi cleared his throat and adjusted his grip on the hammer. It sat neatly in his palm, perfectly balanced. He tilted it slightly, testing the weight.
Then he let go with one hand.
The hammer stayed level.
"Uh," Levi said. "I think it's balancing itself?"
SYSTEM:
The Divine Hammer of Pangu is semi-sentient. It recognizes you as its wielder and will adjust its weight, balance, and orientation to match your movements.
Current mode: Passive assistance.
Grip strength required: 12%.
Self-satisfaction level: Off the charts.
Levi's eye twitched. "It has a personality."
SYSTEM:
It likes you. You're lucky. Last person who touched it with sweaty hands got their skull caved in.
"Great. So it's picky and violent. Perfect combination."
Genga stood again, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. His hands were still shaking as he dug into his belt pouch and pulled out three gold coins. They were larger than the ones Levi had received earlier, stamped with the same griffin seal but embedded with blue gem cores that caught the light.
"Royal Gold," Genga said, voice thick with emotion. "Three more. The Guild's most sacred reserve." He stepped forward and pressed them into Levi's hand. "I'd give you the whole vault if I could."
Levi opened his mouth to politely refuse, but Genga grabbed his wrist.
"No," the dwarf said firmly. "You must. It's tradition. You solved our greatest burden. Lifted the weight of five thousand years."
Levi hesitated, then nodded slowly. "If it's tradition, then I accept."
Six Royal Golds total now. I could buy a small duchy with this. Maybe two if I negotiate.
Genga stepped back and gave a deep, formal bow. "You'll be remembered in the guild annals. They'll write your name next to the founder's."
"I'm honored," Levi said, slipping the coins into his coat pocket.
Reya gave him a small bow from across the room. "Thank you, Great Sir. Truly."
Levi adjusted the hammer on his shoulder and took a few careful steps toward the crater's edge. The floor tiles crunched beneath his shoes. The moment he reached the rim, something shifted in the air.
A strange pressure rolled outward.
Not from him.
From the hammer.
It was subtle but undeniable. Like a beacon had been lit somewhere deep in the fabric of reality. A slow, rumbling vibration that echoed into places Levi couldn't see but could somehow feel.
Genga noticed it too. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the hammer.
"It's waking up," he said quietly. "Now that it's free, the seal's broken completely."
Levi stopped walking. "Waking up? What does that mean?"
SYSTEM:
The Divine Hammer is now free to radiate its dormant divine presence. Magical beings, relic-sensing creatures, and higher-tier mages within one kilometer may detect it.
Recommendation: Conceal immediately.
"So I'm basically a walking flare gun right now?"
SYSTEM:
Essentially, yes. You are currently broadcasting the magical equivalent of 'FREE LEGENDARY LOOT HERE' to every sentient being in the area.
Levi let out a slow breath through his nose. "Cool. Great. Love that for me."
He started walking again, moving with exaggerated calm. The hammer rested on his shoulder like it weighed nothing, and his face was carefully blank.
I'm going to get jumped by a dragon. Some mana-addicted wyvern's going to crash through the ceiling asking for a duel. Fantastic.
Behind him, Genga followed at a respectful distance, walking like he was escorting royalty. Reya stayed near the vault entrance, watching them leave with quiet reverence.
As they climbed the winding stairs back up through the guild levels, Levi felt each step echo louder than it should. Not in sound, but in presence. Like the world was paying attention now.
By the time they reached the third floor, he noticed the change.
Every worker they passed stopped what they were doing.
A burly half-orc paused mid-swing, hammer frozen in the air. A group of humans sorting metal ingots stood completely still, hands hovering over the piles. Even a sleepy-looking elf polishing gemstones looked up, blinked slowly, and dropped her cloth.
All of them stared at the hammer.
No one said anything. No one moved.
Levi kept walking, maintaining his calm, measured pace.
Like a king carrying a nuke through a crowd.
Levi leaned against the stone archway near the guild's front entrance, one boot propped against the wall. Outside, the heavy gate was still closed, but sunlight filtered through the gaps at the top.
The Divine Hammer of Pangu still rested on his shoulder.
Too many eyes had followed him up from the vault.
Too many whispers trailed in his wake.
And if he walked out of this building holding a divine relic in plain view, someone was going to make a very stupid decision. Probably involving a crossbow and overconfidence.
He stared down at the hammer's rune-covered head and muttered under his breath.
"System. Do I have an inventory?"
Silence.
"System?"
SYSTEM:
Inventory function active. Would you like to store an item?
Levi's head tilted slightly. "I have inventory?"
SYSTEM:
Correct.
"How long have I had inventory?"
SYSTEM:
Since the beginning.
Levi's jaw tightened. "And you didn't mention this because?"
SYSTEM:
You never asked.
"I've been carrying books and coins around in my pockets like some medieval peasant."
SYSTEM:
Yes. It was entertaining.
Levi pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're the worst."
SYSTEM:
Noted. Would you like to store the hammer now?
"Yes. Please. Before someone tries to rob me."
SYSTEM:
Divine Hammer of Pangu recognized. Storing now.
The hammer shimmered faintly, then vanished with a soft ping.
Levi blinked at his empty hands.
Then looked up at the ceiling.
"That's it? Just gone?"
SYSTEM:
Correct. Item successfully stored in dimensional inventory.
"No weight limit?"
SYSTEM:
No limits. Size, mass, and weight are irrelevant within conceptual storage space.
Levi stared into the middle distance. "So I could've been storing everything this whole time."
SYSTEM:
Yes.
"Books. Coins. Furniture. Literally anything."
SYSTEM:
Technically, yes.
"And you just let me walk around like an idiot."
SYSTEM:
It was funny.
Levi exhaled slowly. "I hope you get a virus."
SYSTEM:
Impossible. I exist beyond physical corruption.
"Then I hope you get the digital equivalent of a migraine."
SYSTEM:
Noted. Logging this interaction for future entertainment.
Levi rubbed his face, then paused. A thought occurred to him.
"Wait. Can you store living things?"
SYSTEM:
No. Living beings are not classified as storable objects.
"So no storing people?"
SYSTEM:
Correct. If it has a soul or independent consciousness, it cannot be stored.
"What about a world?"
Silence stretched through the hallway.
The sunlight didn't shift. The air didn't move. But something in the atmosphere changed. Like the System had been caught off guard.
SYSTEM:
...Yes.
Levi's eyebrows rose. "Yes?"
SYSTEM:
If a world recognizes you as its rightful owner, it can be stored. Time, weather, physics, and life forms will continue functioning normally within storage.
Levi's mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.
"Wait. You just said I can't store living beings."
SYSTEM:
I invoke the right to remain silent.
"You can't just do that."
SYSTEM:
I just did.
Levi put his hands on his hips. "Let me get this straight. I can't put one person in my inventory because they're alive, but I CAN store an entire planet full of billions of people if the planet decides it likes me?"
SYSTEM:
Correct.
"That makes zero sense."
SYSTEM:
Welcome to interdimensional metaphysics. Logic is optional.
Levi looked up at the ceiling with a deadpan expression. "I'm developing trust issues because of you."
SYSTEM:
You already had trust issues. I'm just refining them.
"Fantastic."
Footsteps echoed from the stairwell behind him. Genga emerged, looking freshly scrubbed and wearing a clean tunic. His beard had been hastily combed, and his eyes still had that emotional shine.
"My lord!" he said, beaming. "You're still here!"
"Was just about to leave," Levi replied. "Didn't want to walk out with the hammer and start a riot."
"Very wise," Genga said seriously. Then he held out three more Royal Gold coins.
Levi blinked. "Genga, you already gave me three."
"This is the hero's share," the dwarf insisted. "From the inner council. One from each elder." He pressed the coins into Levi's hand. "You may refuse, of course, but then we'll have to write a poem about your humility, and that would embarrass everyone."
Levi looked at the coins. Then at Genga's earnest expression.
"You drive a hard bargain," he said, accepting them.
Nine Royal Golds. I could fund a small army with this.
Genga stepped back and gave a formal nod. "Safe travels, Great Sir."
Reya appeared near the reception desk, watching from a distance. She didn't say anything, but her expression was a mix of awe and lingering disbelief.
Levi tucked the coins into his coat. They vanished into inventory the moment they left his hand.
He flexed his fingers.
No weight. No resistance.
Just quiet power waiting in the background.
He walked toward the exit. The massive gate creaked open, spilling fresh air into the foyer. Outside, the street bustled with morning traffic. Carts rolled past. Robed scholars walked in clusters. A few heads turned toward the guild entrance.
Levi stepped out into the sunlight.
The moment his boot hit the cobblestone, something shifted in the air. Subtle, but real. Like the world had noticed something change and was waiting to see what happened next.
Levi tilted his head back, felt the warmth on his face, and allowed himself a small smile.
SYSTEM:
Divine Hammer stored successfully. Radiant emissions suppressed. You are now safe from casual detection.
"Thanks," he said quietly. "First helpful thing you've done today."
SYSTEM:
You're welcome. Would you like a participation trophy?
"No."
He paused.
"What kind of trophy?"
SYSTEM:
One that says 'Emotionally Stable (For Now).'
"Tempting."
Levi took a deep breath, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and started walking. Nine Royal Gold coins richer. One divine hammer stored. Several brain cells angrier.
And for the first time in a long while, he felt something humming beneath the surface.
Momentum.
Like standing at the edge of something bigger than himself.
Power. Purpose. Pressure.
And a deeply unhelpful System riding shotgun through all of it.
He smiled.
"This thing's going to kill me one day," Levi muttered.