As the heavy stone door slowly closed under the push of an ancient incantation, magic energy flowed along the grooves in the walls and floor, forming a sealed energy circuit. The nightmarish world outside seed to be completely shut away.
No more roaring from the captain of the guard, no more screams of the wounded and dying, no more shrieks and howls from those terrifying monsters, all sounds were blocked by the thick, heavy stone and steel.
Although everyone knew this barrier was rely temporary, in this brief mont of peace, Rebecca couldn't help but let out a long breath, if only that hell outside were truly just a nightmare.
But the very next second, Rebecca shook her hair vigorously, casting aside every weak thought that had surfaced in her mind. The thick rock and steel could not bring true, lasting safety, if anything, they might weaken her resolve and let her sink into this fleeting illusion of security. With that thought, the young heir of House Seawright couldn't help but grip the dimd staff in her hand even tighter, hoping the weapon could lend her a little more courage.
The voice of the family knight, Ser Byron Peake, ca from behind her. "My lady Viscountess, the passage has been sealed. Those monsters shouldn't be able to get in for a while."
Rebecca turned to glance at this loyal knight. His steel armor was covered in scars, with a sizable dent in the breastplate, and his cropped gray-white hair bore an obvious singed patch, that was from when Aunt Hestia had used a fireball to rescue him from the jaws of a monster earlier.
The situation had been utterly perilous; the fireball had detonated practically grazing the mid-rank knight's scalp. If not for the favor of the Goddess of Fortune, this knight who had served the family for twenty years would likely already be a corpse.
Of course, Rebecca also couldn't be sure whether this was actually due to Aunt Hestia's far-and-wide-renowned constitution of "magic spells that never hits a person"...
"Thank you for your hard work, Ser Byron," Rebecca lowered her eyelids to conceal the exhaustion in her eyes. "At least we can catch our breath."
Then she turned and surveyed the few people remaining at her side. three soldiers held torches aloft, keeping watch in all directions; Aunt Hestia held a burning fireball in her palm while carefully examining the wall at the far end of the stone hall; and the little maidservant Betty, who had bumblingly tagged along, clutched the frying pan she'd been carrying the entire way, cowering behind the soldiers, her big, bright eyes curiously taking in the surroundings.
Counting herself and Ser Byron, these seven people were likely the last survivors, those who had stayed on the surface could not have survived.
After confirming everyone's condition, Rebecca couldn't help but take stock of the stone hall itself.
This was a place of great antiquity. Cobwebs and thick layers of dust could be seen everywhere in the rectangular stone hall. So decayed objects were piled at one end of the chamber; though thoroughly aged and worn, they still hinted at their forr elegance and grandeur. On the walls surrounding the hall, well-preserved murals and bas-reliefs were still visible. Although the murals had faded and the reliefs were slightly worn, they could still be clearly viewed.
Hestia Seawright had studied those murals and reliefs for quite so ti.
Compared to the flashy and frivolous style that had recently risen from the Northern Kingdoms, every decoration in this stone hall appeared solemn and understated, carrying a distinct First Dynasty character. The murals depicted heroic figures or local customs, while the reliefs carved scenes leaning toward myth and legend alongside abstract divine symbols. As a learned spellcaster, Hestia was quite adept at reading useful information from these ancient images.
Looking at the content of those murals and reliefs, Hestia couldn't help but place her left hand over her chest and murmur softly. "May the ancestors forgive us..."
"Aunt Hestia," Rebecca ca to Hestia's side, staff in hand. The young woman's face was tense, only now did she seem to finally realize what kind of place she had set foot in, and she grew uneasy. "This place..."
"This is the resting place of House Seawright's ancestors," Hestia said gravely. "Do not do anything disrespectful."
Rebecca swallowed hard and looked around. "It looks like no one has been in here for a very long ti..."
"A hundred years ago, Marquis Gormon took it upon himself to remove a holy relic from the ancestral tomb and participated in a rebellion that nearly destroyed the family. After that, this place was completely sealed off. Every descendant of House Seawright knows how to open it, but due to the family decree, no one dares enter without authorization unless it is a matter of life and death." Hestia gave Rebecca a long, aningful look. "In a hundred years, we are the first to set foot in here."
"Well, it really is a 'matter of life and death' now..." Rebecca took a deep breath. "The ancestors will forgive us, right?"
Hestia managed a stiff smile. She couldn't answer that question, so she continued searching for the chanism to open the deeper burial chamber, following the clues in the murals.
It didn't take her much effort to find the special stone pillar. She placed her hand on top of it and pressed down gently.
The stone door leading to the deeper burial chamber imdiately let out a faint tremor, then the entire slab slowly rose amid the sound of grinding stone.
But the instant the door began to rise, Rebecca heard strange sounds from behind it, the clatter of objects falling to the ground, followed imdiately by a startled yelp that couldn't be suppressed.
"There's soone inside?!" Hestia reacted at once, calling out in a low voice, "Byron!"
The knight needed no further orders. Gripping his longsword, he charged toward the stone door. The three other soldiers followed close behind, and after a mont's hesitation, Rebecca rushed after them, shouting over her shoulder to the bewildered little maidservant without looking back. "Betty! Find sowhere to hide!"
The mont she burst into the burial chamber, Rebecca saw Ser Byron, who had charged in ahead, swinging his sword at an agile, petite figure.
The small figure darted around Ser Byron like a gust of wind, lunging left and dodging right, occasionally dissolving into a wisp of black smoke and slipping into one of the many shadow-filled corners of the chamber. Her command of shadow magic and the nimbleness of her footwork left Rebecca wide-eyed, one didn't often encounter a rogue who could tangle with Ser Byron for this long. But as the remaining three soldiers closed in from all sides and Hestia, tongues of fla coiling around her hands, blocked the chamber entrance, the agile figure finally ran out of room to flee and tumbled gracelessly to the ground.
Only when she stopped moving could Rebecca make out the intruder's appearance, a girl who looked about the sa age as herself, though a bit shorter. She wore a set of worn leather armor, had ear-length short hair, and a pretty face. Though her cheeks were smudged with gri, it was still clear she would be a beauty. Most striking of all were her ears, pointed, yet not as long and slender as an elf's. That alone told the story of her bloodline. a half-elf.
But it was impossible to determine what her other half was, since elven blood was so dominant that the racial features of a half-elf were largely the sa whether the other parent was human or orc.
The instant the half-elf girl hit the ground, Ser Byron stepped forward and laid his longsword against her neck. The three soldiers imdiately closed ranks beside him, three blades sealing off every possible escape route.
"Who are you! How dare you break into the ancestral tomb of House Seawright?!" Hestia strode forward, her voice trembling with barely contained fury.
For a noble descendant like herself, having the ancestral tomb visited by a grave robber was enough to make her blood boil, if word of this got out, House Seawright's already teetering reputation would be finished.
Rebecca also stared at the half-elf, eyes wide. Though this sudden turn of events still had her sowhat dazed, the re fact that an outsider had appeared in the forbidden ancestral tomb was enough to make her furious.
With a longsword pressed against her, and both Hestia and Rebecca glaring daggers at her, the half-elf girl's voice began to tremble. "W-wait! I haven't stolen anything yet!"
Ser Byron's longsword imdiately pressed down another fraction. "You've got so nerve!"
The knight's words had barely left his mouth when a strange clattering sound suddenly ca from the black steel coffin in the center of the burial chamber. The noise reached everyone's ears at once, and the entire group, Rebecca included, fell silent.
After a mont, Rebecca was the first to react. A fireball the size of a fist materialized at the tip of her staff, which she aid at the half-elf kneeling on the ground.
"What did you do to our ancestor?!"
This ti the half-elf girl looked like she was genuinely about to cry. "Wait... don't kill yet! More importantly, the lid on your ancestor's coffin is about to fly off!"
Accompanied by the half-elf girl's tearful voice, the noises from inside the black steel coffin grew louder and louder, and even the coffin lid was visibly shaking.
"Oh ancestor!" Hestia's face went deathly pale. This lady, known throughout noble circles for her poise and elegance, lost her composure for the first ti. "Please rest in peace! The one who disturbed you shall be punished..."
The half-elf girl started hollering in a panic.
"What good is all that nonsense at a ti like this?! Hold down your ancestor's coffin lid already!"
The three soldiers exchanged bewildered looks, and even Byron was completely stunned. But by then Rebecca had at least gathered her wits. In one swift leap she reached the platform where the coffin rested, and at that very mont, the coffin lid was shoved completely open, and a hand erged from the gap.
Rebecca didn't hesitate. She grabbed her staff, wound up a full swing, and brought it crashing down. "Oh great ancestor! Please rest in peace!!"
The hand was smacked straight back into the coffin, accompanied by a pained yelp from inside. "What the... who hit my hand?!"
Rebecca looked up blankly to find her family knight, her aunt, and all three soldiers staring at her in utter stupefaction.
She looked down at the staff in her hand. Now it was her turn to look like she was about to cry. "Aunt Hestia... was that a little disrespectful to our ancestor...?"
But Hestia suddenly scread. "Rebecca! Get away from there!"
Rebecca froze. "Auntie?"
"This could be an undead resurrection!" Hestia's face was white as a sheet. "Perhaps the monsters on the surface have... corrupted the ancestor's holy remains!"
This possibility imdiately sent cold sweat running down Rebecca's back. Just as she was about to leap off the platform and take cover behind the soldiers, the heavy lid of the black steel coffin was shoved upward again, and this ti, whoever was inside used their full strength. The entire lid went flying clean off.
Then, a man with short light-brown hair, a face of commanding authority, dressed in aristocratic garnts of an ancient style, sat up from within.
The half-elf girl, still kneeling on the ground, turned to see this scene and couldn't help but let out a long sigh. "See? Your ancestor has well and truly risen from the dead this ti."
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