The Informal Tomb Raiding Diary: She is the occupant of the tomb! Chapter 347 - 281: Rebellion3

Skull Flowers, Red Lantern Scorpions, this place is truly eerie and terrifying.

I tried my best to avoid these bizarre Skull Flowers. Luckily, they grew in clusters rather than over a wide area, so evading them wasn’t difficult.

All strange creatures have their characteristics; it’s best not to provoke them easily.

After descending for another ten minutes or so, the deep well finally reached the bottom, though it likely wasn’t the real bottom.

Because in the center of the circular clearing, there was a hole in the ground. Surrounding it was a stone platform, like a base. I pulled a size two battery from my backpack and tossed it down the hole.

There was no sound of it hitting the ground, nor any sound of water, so the hole below must be very deep.

The clearing was also surrounded by murals depicting sacrificial scenes; a Priest officiating the ritual, soldiers escorting slaves, tying them up, and throwing them alive into the hole.

I can’t quite understand it; if the nobility believed this was the gateway to the Netherworld, shouldn’t they send the dead in? What is the reason for throwing in the living? Forcefully sending them to the Underworld before their ti is up?

This makes no sense. What benefit is there to the nobility?

Unfortunately, the content that the murals can convey is limited. There’s no prologue to read, no synopsis to review, so I can only assu they need to throw living people into the hole to achieve so purpose.

Common sense says that the ones who throw people down typically don’t go down themselves, so the tomb’s owner and his wife are likely not below.

I looked again at the murals around , noticing a door depicted in the murals, more realistic than anything else in the painting.

I walked up to the door, and upon closer inspection, I saw it was a real door, cleverly integrated into the mural, blending seamlessly with its surroundings.

Based on the surrounding elents, I deduced it represented the door to the underworld in the painting.

The door was carved with images of many mythical creatures. I reached out to push, and it opened easily.

There was no lock on the door. Inside was a large hall, which didn’t match the style of the pyramid above because its walls were also painted but clearly not in the Ancient Nile Country’s style.

Its content wasn’t narrative but re decoration: blood-red roses, dark green thorny vines, each flower in the painting was three-dinsional.

The light and shadow effects in the painting were on par with modern technology. I even approached to touch it, confirming it was rely a flat painting.

In the center of the hall stood a stone platform. I stopped hesitating and walked straight towards it.

Two people lay on the stone platform. More accurately, two won: one I recognized from photos as the Sakura Goddess, the other was a face from my distant mory.

"Nanduo..." I uttered her na, stepping up the stairs beside the stone platform.

Only upon closer inspection did I notice the two were lying side by side on the stone platform, but the Sakura Goddess’s left hand and Nanduo’s right hand were connected by a strange object.

It resembled a hand warr, a tubular hand warr, with each reaching a hand inside. The interior was invisible because it was opaque.

I glanced around the platform; there was no sign of Chen Qinghan or the tomb owner, so I reached out, intending to touch this hand warr.

"Ah—"

As soon as I extended my hand, a strange cry ca from above. Judging its position by sound, I jumped off the steps before looking up.

The source of the cry was a creature that had jumped down from the beam in the hall. This creature had four legs, six arms, and on both sides of its head were tumor-like protrusions as large as heads.

They appeared as three heads, but there was actually only one; the ones on the sides were likely secondary brains.

Without looking at its face, one might not realize it was once human; the only intact part was its face.

But it was exceedingly old—I’d never seen soone older. Compared to it, a centenarian seed like a minor.

Yet despite its age, its movents weren’t sluggish, akin to a nimble youth wearing the skin of an old man.

I opened my mouth, realizing I couldn’t speak the language of the Ancient Nile Country. Without a translator, I abandoned conventional ans of communication, opting to fight first; if I couldn’t convince it, I’d try to subdue it.

The Three Heads and Six Arms monster relentlessly pursued . Not much Karmic Fire was needed to handle it; after a few bursts, I burned off its arms. Despite the pain from its amputations, it refused to relent.

Green blood gushed from its wounds, emitting a foul stench. If it was the tomb owner, then so-called immortality rely transford a person into a ghoul.