anwhile, the mont a decision was made; Kaeloris, alongside the remaining five, rushed toward the nearest sarcophagus.
The structure was positioned slightly lower and to the right of the central coffin. Compared to the enormous sarcophagus resting at the heart of the dais, this one was considerably smaller.
Nevertheless, it was still large enough to accommodate a person nearly three ters in height.
Ancient engravings adorned its edges along with inscriptions written in Taegaryean, but Kaeloris barely spared them a glance.
Normally, deciphering such runes might have been fascinating, but now, they had a far more imdiate problem to solve.
The six of them gathered around the coffin; Veyrath, Valmyr, and Vaelorin took the right side, while Caelestra, Sylveris, and Kaeloris positioned themselves on the left side.
Kaeloris exhaled deeply. Though he tried to appear calm, the tension on his face betrayed him.
"On my mark..." He started, his voice low and strained. "One... Two... Three..."
He clenched his jaw before shouting. "Push!"
Imdiately, muscles strained against the stone. The three standing in the left shove forward while the trio in the right pulled with all their strength.
At first, nothing happened as the lid remained firmly in place. It felt as though the coffin and its lid had beco one over the countless years that had passed.
Yet nobody gave up. Instead, they pushed harder. Even Sylveris, the youngest amongst them, gritted her teeth and threw her weight against the stone.
Her silver hair stuck to her forehead from sweat, yet she refused to allow fatigue to discourage her. Then...
CREAK!
A deep grinding sound echoed throughout the crypt. Dust cascaded from the edges of the coffin as the lid shifted... It was miniscule, but it moved nevertheless and that was enough.
Because imdiately they saw this, everyone put in more effort as...
Valmyr’s muscles bulged beneath his arms. The failed Vanguard planted his boots firmly against the obsidian floor and hauled backward with enough force to snap ropes. Veins protruded along his forearms as he pulled harder...
Vaelorin was already drenched in sweat. His face had turned red from exertion; even so, he continued pulling...
Veyrath, on the other hand, looked re seconds away from collapsing. The failed Alchemist’s tongue was practically out of his mouth as his face twisted from the effort...
"Is it opened yet?" He wheezed. His voice sounded like a dying beast pleading for rcy.
The failed rchant shot him a glare sharp enough to cut through steel. "Less talking. More pushing." She snapped.
Veyrath imdiately shut his mouth but inwardly, he was cursing every life decisions that had led him to this point.
He had warned them repeatedly. He had suggested they turned back, suggested they left and yet sohow, every single one of those suggestions had been ignored.
And now, he was opening an ancient coffin inside a crypt filled with murderous statues. Wonderful... Just wonderful.
At this point, Veyrath made a solemn vow. The mont this expedition ended, and assuming he survived, he would never again accompany these lunatics anywhere no matter what they say...
Nearby, Vaelorin was also having similar thoughts. However, his frustration wasn’t actually directed at the expedition. Instead, it was directed at Regaleon himself.
Three days ago, the failed Knight had led them into the Breeding Nest... And that had ended terribly.
Just yesterday, he had also led them into the ruined temple... And sohow, that had gone even worse.
And now, he had brought them into an ancient tomb guarded by murderous Terracottas.
At this point, the failed Pyromancer was beginning to suspect that the Forgotten Knight possessed an uncanny ability to court death because how could it be that whenever he led them sowhere, they were always closer to being killed.
In fact, this entire situation was giving him a sense of deja vu as it felt eerily similar. The cracking statues reminded him of the cocoons from the Breeding Nest.
Only that this ti, it wasn’t five monstrosities erging, it was dozens of angry Terracottas. And honestly, this wasn’t any less better.
The group continued straining; seconds turned into minutes which then stretched endlessly until finally...
CREAK!!!
The kid slid further. Ancient air escaped from within the coffin and instantly, it enveloped the six of them.
This wasn’t the sll of rot or decay; instead it carried traces of dried incense and old parchnt mixed with forgotten earth and dust. It was the scent of a place that was untouched by the living for countless years...
THUD!
Finally, the massive slab of stone crashed onto the dais below. Cloud of dust erupted into the air and instinctively, everyone stepped backward...
Silence followed for a brief mont; then slowly, after the dust settled, the group moved closer and peered into the coffin...
Valmyr stared expectantly, then his shoulders slumped. "Well, that was anticlimactic."
His voice was coloured with disappointnt when he spoke.
Nobody gave a response because they were all busy staring at the corpse within the coffin. The deceased was an elderly man.
And unlike how freshly Veyrath might have imagined him to be due to the influence of the Mummification Array, ti had clearly taken its toll on him.
His skin clung tightly to skinny bones, his cheeks was hollow, and several portions of his flesh had turned dried and cracked open, revealing yellow skeleton underneath.
Yet compared to the years that must have passed, the body was remarkably intact.
The man wore an elaborate burial cloak woven from faded white and gold fabric. Countless wing engravings decorated its surface; there were large wings, small wings, and pairs of wings that overlapped to make the cloak look like a sea of frozen feathers.
Both hands rested upon his chest. He was clutching a peculiar object between them; a rosary... Or sothing in the likeness of one.
Twenty-four translucent beads ford a loop and each bead glowed faintly with a silver light through the shriveled fingers that held them.
Runes covered every bead and despite their age, the inscriptions remained active as they let out a silver radiance.
Sylveris leaned closer and asked curiously. "What is that?"
Kaeloris brows were knitted as he adjusted his glasses. "Honestly, I have no idea. If I had to make a guess, I’d say this man was a priest and whatever he’s holding unto is either an Artifact or a Soul Essence."
"So basically, this might’ve been one of the priests from that ruined temple, right?" Veyrath asked.
Before Kaeloris could reply, Caelestra interrupted the discussion. "Guys, are you forgetting why we opened this damn thing in the first place?"
The failed rchant pointed toward the assembling Terracottas to emphasize her point and instantly, they understood.
Right. There was still the impending death...
Kaeloris rubbed his temple before turning to the three bozos. "Help move him." He requested.
Imdiately, several faces paled, especially Vaelorin’s. The red-haired Pyromancer looked like he had just swallowed a fly; nevertheless, a sharp glare from Caelestra ended all dissensions before they could even begin.
Reluctantly, the three bozos reached into the coffin and carefully lifted the priest from it...
Veyrath visibly shuddered as he comnted. "I really hate this."
Vaelorin grimaced. "So do I..."
Valmyr turned toward Kaeloris and asked. "What now?"
"Now, we find out if the theory is actually going to work..."
The failed Gnost had barely finished his sentence when suddenly, the entire army turned their crimson gazes toward the dais.
Then simultaneously, they began matching tuward the six of them...
Seeing this, Veyrath swallowed. "Should I take that as a good or bad sign?"
Kaeloris expression was dead serious as he replied. "We’re about to find out..."
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