Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
Amber, the great stealth user, professional manipulator of shadows, grave digging enthusiast girl, had a wise saying. “The path is right there. The door is nothing more than an illusory ornament. Once you put aside your mental inhibitions, even a mere celery stalk would be enough to open the door to the royal treasury.”
Okay, perhaps celery did not exist in this world, but to Amber, opening the gate to the ancient tomb was something that did not even require celery.
With a little shadow magic, some understanding of the ancient seals, and a tiny bit of luck, the half-elf thief easily broke the seal to the Cecil Clan’s ancestral tomb. Then, a passageway that even Herti and Rebecca did not know about appeared in front of everyone.
Everyone then followed Amber into the passageway.
The passageway built with rocks and spirit subduing bricks was more spacious than expected. Even Gawain and Byron, who were almost two meters tall and wearing their heavily clad knight armor, did not feel cramped in the passageway. The infusion lamps embedded in the walls on both sides of the passageway had already been expended. But after Herti cast several basic spells, the 700-year-old lamps lit up one after another, lighting up the path ahead.
“I’m really just a little bandit trying to get by,” Amber said modestly as she walked in front of the group, “I’m a descendant of the forest elves. I honor the spirits of those who lived before. Why would I do such a thing as digging their graves?”
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Gawain expressed his scorn at her claim, “You still have the cheek to say that when you’re so well-versed at this?”
Perhaps it was because she was sure that she would get to keep her life that the half-elf had skin as thick as the door that she had just opened. “Picking locks and breaking seals are basic skills for our class. Is it wrong for me to be proficient at my basic skills?”
At this time, Rebecca, who was walking in the middle of the team, suddenly asked, “Are you a resident of the Cecil territory?”
Amber’s brow furrowed as she pondered. “I lived here for several years, but I haven’t applied to become a formal resident, but according to the rules of the Cecil territory, if you live for more than three years here and pay taxes on time, you’re counted as a resident… So do you think I’m a resident?”
Rebecca shook her head. “If you didn’t apply, then you’re not a resident.”
“Ohhh” Amber dragged the syllable. “Why do you ask then?”
“I’m the Lady of Cecil territory,” Rebecca said seriously, “So if I’m your Lady, it’ll be my responsibility to protect you.”
Amber: “…Well you should have said that earlier! Is it too late to correct myself now?”
With a straight face, Rebecca replied, “Too late.”
Gawain looked at the serious-looking Rebecca, then at the unscrupulous Amber, and he shook his head in amusement.
Though he had woken up to such a mess, the feeling of being a human was much better than being in that damned state previously.
He looked at Herti walking behind him. This lady, his granddaughter of who knew how many generations after him, had taken furtive glances at him several times already. He was waiting for her to start talking, but seeing as she did not seem like she was going to talk anytime soon, he went ahead and asked, “If there’s any questions you have to ask, shoot.”
Herti was a little startled. but she quickly took a deep breath and calmed herself down. Staring at Gawain’s face that looked exactly like the portrait in her clan, she carefully worded, “Ancestor… I still can’t believe that you really are… ”
“Indeed, I’m that Gawain Cecil, that pioneer from seven hundred years ago. I can recite the thirty years of everything I experienced in my life, or would you like me to tell you about the times during the Second Settlement? But to be honest, I’m afraid all these wouldn’t be much proof. A good historian might be able to talk about all these things and be more convincing than me. After all, I’m not that eloquent.” Gawain shrugged. “You wanted to confirm that I’m the real person, right?”
“Please forgive me for having doubts,” Herti said anxiously. “But it is indeed quite… Although there have been stories about resurrections since ancient times, it is quite another matter to see it with my own eyes. I heard that there are some paladins and moon elves that could go into suspended animation for years and even up to decades, relying on the power of the Holy Light and the secrets of elven arts to preserve their soul and life force, but I’ve never heard of human knights capable of doing that. Besides… you were dead for seven hundred years.”
“To tell you the truth, I don’t know what’s going on as well,” Gawain said, shaking his head, although he felt a great urge to fabricate an intricate and logical theory just to scare his great great… great granddaughter, but he could not come up with such a theory from his own knowledge or Gawain Cecil’s memories. Thus, he bluntly admitted that he had no clue how this could all be explained. “Perhaps it has something to do with what I’ve been through in the past. You know that I’ve received blessings from the elementals back when I was leading pioneers to venture into the wilderness. It probably did something to my body.”
“Oh…” Herti remarked incredulously before suddenly looking up at the path ahead.
“There is airflow,” she said in a low voice, “And the magic feels different. We’re probably close to the end of the tomb.”
Gawain nodded, grasping tightly in his hand the Sword of Pioneers as a vague feeling of uneasiness heightened his guard for danger that could lie ahead.
“Be on guard,” said Knight Byron, who was walking with Amber at the front of the pack, as he seemed to have sensed something as well. Unsheathing his steel broadsword, he casually brushed his other hand along the blade, and the blade was illuminated with a bright light. “You three, guard the rear.”
Shwing! The three soldiers were ready to battle. Though they had only the most basic combat class, they had, after all, managed to live through defending against the monsters. As soldiers trained by the Cecil Clan themselves, their current fearlessness and composure quickly alleviated the nervousness in Amber and Betty, the maidservant who was at the center of the group.
Though the passageway was long, it would soon lead to its end. On both sides of the stone walls, the spirit subduing stones embedded every ten meters that marked the tomb area came to an end. Something like a crossroad with a more open space appeared up ahead.
This was the intersection of the tomb and the castle’s underground system. It was also the center of the network of ancient hidden passageways.
Amber pointed to one of the paths at the crossroad and said, “That’s where I came in from. It leads to a dry well outside the castle, but it’s probably occupied by monsters now.”
Gawain looked to Herti. “Where is west?”
Herti drew a simple magic symbol in the air, and the symbol turned into a glowing ribbon, waving as it pointed to certain direction.
“Over there,” Gawain said, but just as his voice fell, he suddenly sensed danger.
Before he could even give it a thought, his seasoned body had already reacted. With almost pure instinct, he raised the Sword of Pioneers in a parrying motion, and he immediately felt a shock through the sword as though he was hit by a hammer.
His body shook a little, but he steadied himself. Then the attacker finally appeared before everyone. With what seemed like faint murmurings, three tall, swaying figures came walking out from one of the dark tunnels at the crossroad!
They definitely did not look like something out of the natural world. They were more like the monsters that were created and put together using the dark arts of necromancers and warlocks. At nearly three meters tall, they were like shriveled and deformed giants, but their bodies were made of mud-like amorphous substance. The mud-like substance undulated and bubbled on the surface of their bodies and occasionally exposed the red skeleton underneath.
“Ah!” Rebecca exclaimed immediately upon seeing the three monsters while Betty bit her lip as though she could be frightened to tears at any time. Herti raised her staff and stamped it on the ground, casting out a weak buff of clarity which lowered the effect of fear that the monsters had inflicted on everyone. And she quickly said to Gawain, “Ancestor, these are the monsters!”
Gawain had already recovered from the shock of his first encounter with these non-human monsters, his mind bringing up a memory related to this. “It’s these things?!”
The three monsters had already launched their attack again. They were making murmuring sounds as though they were talking in their sleep. Two of the monsters rushed toward Gawain at the same time while the other one raised his arm, conjuring dark energy that condensed into an arrow in front of him. The next moment, the arrow flew straight for Amber, who was standing at the front of the group!
“Wah!” Amber let out a short cry as she immediately shrunk back into the shadow behind Knight Byron. In the next moment, she appeared in another shadow ten meters away. Raising his illuminated broadsword, Knight Byron let out a roar, and he went forth to take on one of the incoming monsters.
“Herti, Rebecca, take the one that can shoot shadow arrows! Try not to use arcane magic, arcane magic is pretty much useless against these things! Amber, you and the soldiers protect the spellcaster!” Gawain shouted. With a swing of his longsword, he boldly rushed forward.
He had never wielded a sword to battle before.
He also had never before seen any non-human monsters either.
Despite having gone through transmigration and resurrection, this was the first time he had set foot upon the soils of this other world.
Thus, in that moment, he had absolutely no clue what he could do with the remnant fighting ability in this body, the combat knowledge that did not even belong to him, and an ancient longsword that had lost its magical energy.
But often, fate would not leave you in a circumstance of your own choosing.
You are standing here, and the monsters are standing there. With nowhere else to run, an antique sword in your hand, a shield which you might have if it had not been lost a hundred years ago by a good-for-nothing descendant, what else can you do?
F*ck them! F*ck them up!
Is this not just an aberration?
Seven hundred years ago, Gawain Cecil could take on a hundred of them single-handedly!
Could I not take on just the three of them?