Holy artifacts

The amphitheater stage, in stark contrast to every other display in the vault, had no overwhelming riches, fantastic jewels, or precious metals. It was stark and bare, with a single block of silver-veined marble rising about four feet off the stage floor in its center.
And upon the marble sat five simple objects.
An ancient wooden placard, its paint so faded that the symbols could not be recognized.
A circlet woven from thorny branches.
A clay cup.
A folded cloth.
A knife with a wooden handle and a leaf-shaped blade.
Why take one priceless holy relic when you could take five of them?
And I knew exactly what relic Nicodemus truly wanted.
I turned to Anna and mouthed, “Check it.”
She nodded and hunkered down to examine the block, moving cautiously around it. Meanwhile, I extended my senses toward them, feeling carefully for any enchantments that might be protecting them.
That was a mistake. There weren’t any traps on the objects, but the collective aura of power around them seared my awareness as sharply as if I’d jammed a penny in an electrical outlet. I let out a hiss and leaned back, while my thoughts blazed with the energy focused upon those artifacts—a combined aura that made the thrumming power of a roused Amoracchius seem like a low-wattage lightbulb by comparison.
“My God,” I breathed, before I could remember to remain silent. “These are weapons.” I looked slowly around me. “This isn’t a vault. It’s an armory.”


Skin Game Chapter 40, Page 338-339