Saul cast Gleamlight Spell, illuminating the deep pit.
At first glance, there were only weeds, roots, stones, and clumps of earth in the pit.
But upon closer inspection, Saul spotted so tiny black crystals in the soil. They looked like rocks, easy to miss if not observed carefully.
“These are depleted magic crystal fragnts,” Saul picked up a shard no bigger than a pinky nail and held it up for Victor to see. “Soone did use this estate to set up a magic formation, but the formation is buried underground. Unless we dig up this whole patch of earth, there’s no way to restore its original form or determine its exact purpose.”
Victor took the shard and gently pinched it between his thumb and index finger. It crumbled into fine black dust, carried away by the wind.
“This pit isn’t that deep, really. Deep enough to bury an ordinary person, but too shallow for sealing sothing... I’d guess this formation was ant to enhance or temporarily store sothing.”
Saul nodded. “That was my thought as well. So, the person who lay in this pit was probably the one benefiting from the formation.”
“But now the pit’s empty.” Victor glanced at Saul. “Could the person have gotten out?”
Saul tossed aside another fragnt and stood up, brushing off his knees. “Maybe it’s no longer useful. Or maybe soone dug it up and ate it.”
Victor anxiously stroked the strings of his harp. “We might have another competitor for the treasure.”
He reached out to pull Saul up but gave up when he saw the dirt on Saul’s hands.
“Don’t worry. No matter how many enemies there are, your big brother will help you get the treasure. I’ll make sure you reach Third Rank!”
Saul looked at Victor’s hand, reaching out then retracting and sighed helplessly before jumping out of the pit himself.
Brushing the dirt off his hands, he spoke with feigned nonchalance, “What nonsense are you talking about? With my talent, do I need treasures? You should be the one breaking through to Third Rank first. You’re almost thirty. Don’t suddenly get contamination one day.”
Victor didn’t respond for a while. Curious, Saul glanced up, only to see Victor covering his mouth with one hand, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye.
“Boohoo... Saul actually cares so much about . I’m so moved.”
Goosebumps rose all over Saul as he looked at Victor.
How did he end up with a brother like this?
“Thanks, Saul. But your brother is just a diocre man, waiting for death to co. Let’s not waste treasure on .”
The once howling wind suddenly stopped. The sky grew darker—dusk giving way to the deep of night.
Victor looked up. His expression was hidden in the gloom.
“A heavy rain’s coming. We’d best take shelter inside.”
As he spoke, Victor plucked a string. Even its low tones rang out ethereal and pleasant.
Saul was montarily stunned, then nodded. “Alright. Seems there’s nothing else out here anyway.”
The two crossed the garden and walked straight to the castle entrance. Strangely, the grand door was already ajar.
“Looks like others have already visited.”
Saul turned and gestured to Victor’s harp, signaling him to stay quiet, then turned and pushed the door open.
The castle’s front hall was dark. Scattered across the floor were toppled lamp stands, chairs, and other pieces of furniture.
There seed to be windows in the hall, but they were completely covered by heavy curtains.
Saul scanned the room carefully. No figures, no corpses, no sense of being watched.
Only then did he signal to the man behind him and step further into the castle.
Victor almost followed Saul’s footprints that had not disappeared.
The mont both stepped inside, a flash of lightning streaked across the sky. Blinding white light poured in through the door and the gaps in the velvet curtains. And in that mont, Saul thought he saw a figure kneeling in the center of the hall, back turned to them.
The man was in armor—it looked like a warrior.
But as the lightning passed and the thunder rolled in, the figure vanished.
Crash—!
Torrential rain poured down.
Victor leapt forward, dodging the splashing raindrops.
He touched the harp at his chest, visibly relieved. “That was close.”
Then he noticed Saul standing frozen ahead. Curious, he circled around and waved a hand in front of Saul’s face. “What’s wrong, my unlucky little brother? Turned to stone?”
Saul snapped out of it, swatting Victor’s hand away. “I just saw soone kneeling up ahead.”
“Hm?” Victor looked over, puzzled. But he saw nothing. Still, it didn’t stop him from musing aloud, “Perhaps a ghost, trapped in this ancient castle. No escape, begging you to free him from his fate.”
As he spoke, Victor’s fingers once again brushed the strings of his harp.
But then he rembered Saul’s warning and forced himself not to play a note.
“Begging for help?” Saul sneered. “I ca to steal. He found the wrong guy.”
Cautiously, Saul approached the spot where he’d seen the figure. Narrowing his eyes, he activated semi-imrsive ditation to examine the area again.
Still, the floor was empty.
“Gone, or not a spirit at all?” Saul’s expression grew grim. He was just about to warn Victor to stay alert—
When another flash of lightning lit up the sky, so bright it turned night into day.
Saul quickly looked down again, and was stunned to see countless kneeling figures filling the hall.
Even beneath his own feet and where Victor stood, soone knelt.
“Gah!” Saul lowered his gaze and t a face.
That face had no eyes, no nose, no ears—only a gaping mouth. The scarred corners of its lips quivered and twisted, as if pleading for help.
But the next second, with a peal of thunder, the figures vanished once more.
Bang! The front door slamd open as two people burst inside, fleeing the rain.
“This rain’s not right!” the shorter one cried, clawing at his soaked face and neck—his fingertips already stained red.
The other figure was taller. Saul saw an old man with white hair.
The man chanted a spell to clean the rain off himself, then tidied up the little boy beside him.
Victor stood not far from them, smiling faintly as though waiting for them to notice.
“Who?” The old man finally spotted Victor. He grabbed the boy by the collar and backed away to the other end of the hall.
Victor didn’t retaliate—just playfully moved to stand behind Saul.
“And who might you be?” the old man finally noticed Saul standing in the center of the hall, his guard rising.
“Just sheltering from the rain,” Saul replied, just as wary.
The little boy didn’t stand out, though now his face was covered in blood, twisted in pain.
The white-haired old man wasn’t ordinary. The magical pulse from his earlier spell hinted at the strength of a Third Rank apprentice.
The old man furrowed his nose at Saul’s lie but didn’t call him out on it.
His gaze shifted between Saul and Victor a few tis before he smiled.
“Oh? Then it seems we share the sa purpose. But you’re luckier than us—didn’t get caught in the rain.”
He casually walked to a nearby window, lifted the curtain, and glanced outside.
“This rain doesn’t feel right. It stings and itches on contact.” He let the curtain fall. “Not surprising, though. This is Ralph Manor—not the best place to take shelter.”
“Well, since we’re here, we might as well wait out the storm.” Saul nodded at him. “Please, rest here. We’ll head farther in.”
He grabbed the still-curious Victor and prepared to cross the hall and explore deeper into the castle.
That old man was likely Third Rank. Saul and Victor were both Second Rank. It wouldn’t go well if things got rough.
The old man didn’t stop them—just watched silently.
But the little boy tugged his sleeve in frustration.
“Teacher, are we just going to let them go in first?”
The white-haired wizard pressed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “No rush, Swan. Let them take the first look.”
(End of Chapter)
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