Chapter 2

As the heavy stone door slowly closed under the power of ancient magic, the magical energy flowed along the walls and grooves on the ground, forming a closed energy loop. The nightmare-like world outside seemed to be completely isolated.

The angry shouts of the guard captain, the agonized cries of the injured and dying, and the roars of the terrifying monsters were all blocked by the thick stone and steel. Although everyone knew this isolation was only temporary, Rebecca couldn't help but take a long breath in this moment of peace—how she wished the hell outside was just a nightmare.

But the next second, Rebecca shook her head vigorously, dispelling the weak thoughts that had crept into her mind. The thick rock and steel could not bring true long-term safety; instead, it might weaken her will and make her indulge in this brief illusion of safety. With this thought, the young heir of the Cecil family tightly gripped her already dimming staff, hoping this weapon could give her more courage.

The voice of the family knight Byron Kirk came from behind: "My Lord Viscount, the passage is sealed. Those monsters shouldn't be able to get in for a while."

Rebecca turned to look at the loyal knight. His steel armor was covered in scars, with a noticeable dent on his chest plate, and his grayish-white short hair showed clear signs of being singed—this was from when Aunt Hettie had used a fireball to save him from a monster's mouth. The situation had been extremely dangerous, with the fireball almost exploding right next to the mid-level knight's scalp. If not for the favor of the gods, this knight who had served the family for twenty years would have become a corpse.

Of course, Rebecca couldn't be sure if this was due to Aunt Hettie's well-known "magic never hits anyone" trait...

"Thank you, Knight Byron," Rebecca lowered her eyelids to hide her fatigue, "We can at least catch our breath now."

Then she turned around and surveyed the few people left around her: three soldiers were holding torches and vigilantly watching the surroundings, Aunt Hettie was holding a burning fireball and carefully examining the wall at the end of the stone hall, and the clumsy young maid Betty was tightly gripping the frying pan she had carried all the way, hiding behind the soldiers and curiously looking around with her big, blinking eyes.

Including herself and Knight Byron, these seven people were probably the last survivors—those left on the surface had no chance of survival.

After confirming the condition of each person, Rebecca couldn't help but take a closer look at the stone hall.

This was an ancient place. In the rectangular stone hall, spider webs and thick layers of dust could be seen everywhere. Some decayed objects were piled at one end of the hall, and although they were old and worn, their former elegance and grandeur were still evident. On the walls around the stone hall, well-preserved murals and reliefs could still be seen. Despite the fading colors and slight wear, they were still clear to see.

Hettie Cecil carefully examined the murals and reliefs for a long time. Compared to the frivolous and superficial style that had emerged in recent times from the northern countries, everything in this stone hall was solemn and simple, with a distinct "First Dynasty" atmosphere. The murals depicted heroic figures or local customs, while the reliefs carved mythological scenes and abstract symbols of deities. As a learned spellcaster, Hettie was very skilled at interpreting useful information from these ancient images.

Looking at the content of the murals and reliefs, Hettie couldn't help but place her left hand on her chest and whisper, "May the ancestors forgive..."

"Aunt Hettie," Rebecca approached Hettie with her staff, the young girl's face tense. Only now did she realize what kind of place she had entered, and she felt a bit uneasy, "This place..."

"This is where the ancestors of the Cecil family rest," Hettie said solemnly, "Do not do anything disrespectful."

Rebecca swallowed hard and looked around, "It seems no one has been here for a long time..."

"Since a hundred years ago, when Baron Gruman took a holy relic from the ancestral tomb and participated in a rebellion that almost destroyed the family, this place has been completely sealed. Every descendant of the Cecil family knows how to open it, but due to the family's command, no one dares to enter unless it's a matter of life and death," Hettie looked deeply at Rebecca, "In a hundred years, we are the first to step into this place."

"It is indeed a matter of life and death now..." Rebecca took a deep breath, "The ancestors will forgive us, won't they?"

Hettie gave a stiff smile. She couldn't answer this question and could only continue searching for the mechanism to open the deeper tomb chamber according to the murals.

She didn't take long to find the special stone pillar and pressed her hand on the top, applying a little force.

The stone door to the deeper tomb chamber immediately began to vibrate and then slowly rose with a grinding sound.

But just as the stone door rose, Rebecca heard an unusual sound from behind it—a sound of objects falling, followed by a suppressed exclamation.

"Someone inside?!" Hettie immediately reacted, calling out, "Byron!"

The knight didn't wait for further instructions and rushed toward the stone door, sword in hand. The other three warriors followed closely, and after a moment of hesitation, Rebecca also rushed forward, shouting over her shoulder to the clumsy maid, "Betty! Find a place to hide!"

As soon as they rushed into the tomb chamber, Rebecca saw Knight Byron swinging his sword at a nimble, small figure.

The small figure darted around Byron like the wind, occasionally turning into a black mist and disappearing into the shadows. Her mastery of shadow manipulation and agility amazed Rebecca—she rarely saw a rogue who could tangle with Byron for so long. However, as the three remaining soldiers completed the encirclement and Hettie, with flames dancing around her, blocked the entrance to the tomb chamber, the nimble figure lost all means of escape and fell to the ground in a sorry state.

When she stopped, Rebecca could finally see the intruder's face—it was a girl about her age but shorter, wearing old leather armor, with short hair and a beautiful face, though her face was dirty. The most striking feature was her ears, which were pointed but not as long as an elf's, indicating her mixed heritage: a half-elf.

But it was impossible to determine her other half's heritage, as the elven bloodline was so strong that the racial characteristics of half-elves were generally similar, whether they were human or orc.

As soon as the half-elf girl landed, Knight Byron stepped forward and placed his sword at her throat, and the three soldiers immediately surrounded her, their swords blocking all escape routes.

"Who are you! How dare you intrude on the Cecil family's ancestral tomb?!" Hettie strode forward, her voice filled with uncontrollable anger. For a noble descendant like her, the desecration of the ancestral tomb by a tomb raider was enough to make her furious—this incident, if it became public, would likely destroy the Cecil family's already precarious reputation.

Rebecca also glared at the half-elf—though the sudden event left her a bit dazed, the presence of an outsider in the forbidden ancestral tomb was enough to make her angry.

The half-elf girl, with a sword at her throat and the glare of Hettie and Rebecca, stammered, "W-wait! I haven't stolen anything yet!"

Byron's sword pressed down even harder, "You have a lot of nerve!"

Just as the knight spoke, a strange creaking sound suddenly came from the black steel coffin in the center of the tomb chamber. The sound immediately caught everyone's attention, and the group, including Rebecca, fell silent.

A moment later, Rebecca was the first to react. A fist-sized fireball appeared at the tip of her staff, pointing at the half-elf on the ground, "What have you done to our ancestors?!"

The half-elf girl, on the verge of tears, cried out, "D-don't kill me yet! Your ancestor's coffin is about to burst open!"

As the half-elf girl spoke, the sound from the black steel coffin grew louder, and the coffin lid began to vibrate noticeably.

"Ancestors!" Hettie's face turned pale, the usually composed and elegant lady losing her composure, "Rest in peace! Those who disturb you will be punished..."

The half-elf girl shouted, "What good are these words now! Quickly, hold down your ancestor's coffin lid!"

The three soldiers looked at each other, even Byron was at a loss, but Rebecca quickly reacted. She rushed to the platform where the coffin was placed, and at that moment, the coffin lid was pushed open, and a hand emerged from the gap.

Without hesitation, Rebecca swung her staff and struck down, "Ancestor, rest in peace!!"

The hand was immediately smashed back into the coffin, and a pained cry came from inside, "Damn, who hit my hand!"

Rebecca looked up, seeing her family knight, aunt, and the three warriors staring at her in shock.

Rebecca looked down at her staff, on the verge of tears, "Aunt, did I show disrespect to the ancestor..."

But Hettie suddenly shouted, "Rebecca! Get away from there!"

Rebecca was taken aback, "Aunt?"

"This could be a resurrection of the dead!" Hettie's face was pale, "Perhaps the monsters on the surface... have corrupted the ancestor's holy remains!"

This possibility made Rebecca break out in a cold sweat. As she prepared to jump off the platform and hide behind the soldiers, the heavy lid of the black steel coffin was pushed up again—this time with full force, and the entire lid was thrown away!

Then, a man with short, light brown hair, a dignified and imposing face, and dressed in ancient noble attire, sat up from inside.

The half-elf girl, who was still kneeling, turned her head and sighed, "See, your ancestor has risen from the dead."

(First day, double update. I'll try to maintain a double update every other day... after all, I'm a slow writer...)