My Harem of Dangerous and Crazy Women as a Reincarnated Necromancer

Beneath the sheet, hidden for years, was an entire arsenal.

Several complete sets of armor rested on stands, their metal plates gleaming under the faint candlelight, as if the dust hadn’t dared settle on them.

Beside the armor were elegant garments, made of fine fabrics with intricate embroidery, hung with care.

And scattered throughout, on small tables and shelves, were all kinds of objects.

Rings, bracelets, shields of various sizes, and amulets.

The moment she saw them, Emilia’s eyes lit up.

”This... these things belonged to my parents... I have no doubt about it,” she murmured, stepping closer, a mix of surprise and something resembling excitement in her voice. ”This was the style of armor my father used to wear, and those clothes... I’d swear those were my mother’s.”

She extended a hand and gently brushed the tips of her fingers against one of the fabrics, delicately, as if afraid it might fall apart.

”I had no idea they’d been stored down here... If I’d known, I would have come much sooner.”

Mark, meanwhile, had moved closer to examine the pieces more carefully.

And as he studied them, a feeling of familiarity began growing inside him.

He recognized them — not the specific pieces, but rather their style.

That particular finish, those details no blacksmith in this world could have possibly reproduced.

They were items from Eternal Conquest Online.

Mark recognized a couple of them almost instantly.

An armor set he remembered seeing in the cash shop, one of those you got with real money.

A few amulets that had been rewards from a seasonal event, years ago.

Several rings that also rang a bell, some kind of gift for a server maintenance extension.

And while none of them were top-tier items, not by a long shot.

They weren’t low-level junk either.

They sat in that comfortable middle ground, decent and functional gear that any player would have been happy to have.

But then, a thought crossed Mark’s mind.

He crouched down, picking up one of the helmets in his hands, turning it to examine it from every angle.

”Hey, Emilia, a question,” he said, not taking his eyes off the helmet. ”Didn’t your father have an inventory?”

”A... what?” Emilia asked, looking at him in obvious confusion.

”An inventory,” Mark repeated, setting the helmet down.

”Sorry, but I don’t understand what you mean by ’inventory,’ could you be more specific?” Emilia said, tilting her head.

Mark was about to answer, but then hesitated, since while he could explain it in words it would be complicated.

So he opted for the simplest approach.

He extended a hand into the air and, with a mental gesture, opened his interface, and before him appeared the translucent window of his inventory.

That floating grid of slots where he kept his belongings, visible to anyone nearby.

”I mean this,” he said, turning so Emilia could see it clearly.

Emilia’s reaction was instant.

Her eyes went wide, and an expression of absolute recognition crossed her face.

”That!” she exclaimed, pointing at the floating window. ”Papa’s box of things! My father had one exactly like that!”

”’Papa’s box of things’?” he repeated, unable to help a half smile at the name.

”That’s what I called it as a kid, since he never told me its real name,” Emilia admitted, somewhat embarrassed, though not taking her eyes off the interface. ”Papa used to pull things out of it out of nowhere, sometimes food, tools, weapons, whatever.”

A nostalgic smile crossed her face.

”I loved watching him do it... I used to ask him to take things out and put them away just to see it work.”

”So he did have one...” Mark murmured, thoughtful.

”Is something wrong?” she asked, seeing Mark looking so confused.

”No,” Mark replied almost immediately. ”It just seems strange that he left all these things here, on display, when he could have kept them in a much safer and more practical space.”

”Hmmmm, now that you mention it... a memory just came back to me,” Emilia said, somewhat thoughtful. ”Every time my father went off on an adventure, he used to say he was going to ’empty out the box.’”

She looked at that pile of objects.

”I never really understood what he meant by that...”

Mark followed her gaze, sweeping his eyes across the vastness of the vault.

”I see... that explains everything then,” he said slowly. ”He’d dump everything out here to free up space before each trip... And over time, trip after trip, year after year...”

”...it ended up filling this entire vault,” Emilia finished.

”Exactly.”

Emilia’s father had spent his whole life accumulating treasures, unloading them into that place every time he needed to make room, until the vault had become the enormous storehouse it was now.

Mark set the helmet aside and started browsing through the smaller objects.

The rings, in particular, caught his attention.

He picked them up one by one and tried them on, reading the brief description that appeared in his interface each time he put one on.

And there was a bit of everything.

A ring of life regeneration, which slowly restored health over time.

Another for increased carrying capacity, along with one for physical resistance and one for magic defense.

They were varied pieces, none spectacular on their own, but all with genuinely useful effects that, combined the right way, could make a real difference in combat.

’Not bad...’ Mark thought, spinning a ring between his fingers.

And suddenly an idea occurred to him.

”Emilia, would you mind going to call the others? I’d like them to come try on some of these things,” he said, turning toward her. ”I’m sure there’s more than one item here that could be useful to them, and it would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

Mark’s smile widened as he looked at her.

”Since your father went to all the trouble of collecting it, let’s put it to use.”

”That sounds like a great idea,” Emilia replied. ”I’ll go get them right away. I won’t be long.”

And with that, the queen turned and left the treasure vault with a light step, leaving Mark alone in the middle of that sea of relics.

He, for his part, took the opportunity to keep browsing at his leisure.

He went from one object to the next, picking up pieces, examining them, setting them back in place.

Until, among a pile of objects stacked in a corner, half hidden beneath the rest, something caught his attention.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and a slow smile began forming on his lips as he approached what he had just discovered.

”Well, well, well,” he murmured, reaching a hand toward the object. ”Look what do we have here...”