Chapter 6

An excellent master of stealth, a professional in shadow magic, and an enthusiast of tomb raiding, Miss Ambra has a famous saying: "The path is there; the door is merely a vague decoration. As long as you overcome your psychological barriers, even the gate of the royal treasury can be opened with just a stalk of celery."

Well, this world probably doesn’t have celery, but for Ambra, breaking into an ancient tomb doesn’t require celery.

With just a little shadow magic, some knowledge of ancient restrictions, and a bit of luck, this half-elf thief easily bypassed the restrictions in the Cecil ancestors' tomb, revealing a passage that neither Hetti nor Rebecca knew about.

Then everyone followed Ambra into the passage.

The tomb passage, built with rocks and soul-stabilizing bricks, was much wider than expected. Even heavily armored knights like Gauwen and Byron, who were nearly two meters tall, wouldn’t feel cramped. The enchanted torches embedded in the walls had long since run out, but after Hetti cast a few basic spells, the ancient torches, which were seven hundred years old, lit up one by one, illuminating the way forward.

"I’m just a small thief, you know, just trying to make a living," Ambra said humbly as she walked at the front of the group. "I’m a descendant of forest elves and respect the spirits of the ancestors. How could I do something like tomb raiding?"

Gauwen dismissed her words with a sneer: "You’re so skilled at it, yet you still try to explain?"

Perhaps feeling that her life was safe, this half-elf, who had no racial pride, had a face as thick as the tomb door she had just pried open: "Lock-picking and restriction-breaking are standard skills in our line of work. Is it wrong to have solid fundamentals?"

At this point, Rebecca, who was in the middle of the group, suddenly asked, "Are you a citizen of the Cecil territory?"

Ambra furrowed her brow and thought for a moment: "I’ve lived here for several years, but I’ve never applied to become a formal citizen. According to the rules of the Cecil territory, if you live here for more than three years and pay taxes on time, you’re considered a citizen. So, do I count?"

Rebecca shook her head: "If you haven’t applied, you don’t count."

"Oh," Ambra drawled, "Then why did you ask?"

"I am the lord of the Cecil territory," Rebecca said seriously, "so if you were my citizen, I would have an obligation to protect you."

Ambra: "…Then why didn’t you say that earlier? Can I change my answer now?"

Rebecca looked serious: "It’s too late."

Gauwen glanced at the serious Rebecca and the shameless Ambra, and shook his head with a smile.

Although he woke up in this mess, being human again felt much better than his previous state.

He looked at Hetti, who was walking behind him. This lady, who was his great-great-granddaughter or something, had already glanced at him several times. He had been waiting for her to speak first, but since she hadn’t broken the silence, he decided to take the initiative: "What do you want to ask, just say it."

Hetti was slightly startled but quickly calmed down. She looked at Gauwen’s face, which was identical to the portraits in the family archives, and carefully chose her words: "Ancestor… I still can’t quite believe it. You really are…"

"Indeed, I am the real Gauwen Cecil, the pioneer from seven hundred years ago. I can recite my thirty years of life experiences or tell you about the second pioneering era. But to be honest, that probably won’t prove anything. A good historian might be more convincing, after all, my eloquence isn’t great," Gauwen shrugged. "You just want to confirm if I’m real, right?"

"Please forgive my doubts," Hetti said hurriedly, "but this is just too… While stories of spirits returning have existed since ancient times, seeing it firsthand is a different matter. I’ve heard that some holy knights and silver moon elves can achieve a state of suspended animation for years or even decades, preserving their souls and vitality with holy light and elven magic, but I’ve never heard of human knights doing the same, let alone… for seven hundred years."

"To be honest, I don’t know how it happened," Gauwen said, shaking his head. Although he wanted to come up with a logical and convincing theory to impress his great-great-granddaughter, he couldn’t find any plausible explanation from his own knowledge or Gauwen Cecil’s memories. "It might have something to do with my experiences before I died. You know, I received the blessing of the elements when leading the pioneers to explore the wilderness, which probably changed my constitution."

"Is that so…" Hetti said noncommittally, then suddenly looked up at the path ahead.

"There’s a draft," she whispered, "and a different magical aura. We must be at the end of the tomb area."

Gauwen nodded and tightened his grip on the Pioneer’s Sword—a vague sense of unease told him that what lay ahead was not safe.

"Be on guard," Knight Byron, who was walking at the front with Ambra, seemed to sense something as well. He drew his steel broadsword, and as his hand swept over the blade, a faint silver glow enveloped it. "You three, protect the rear."

The sound of metal clashing rang out as three soldiers prepared for battle. Although they were basic combatants, they were elite warriors who had survived battles against monsters and were carefully trained by the Cecil family. Their fearless and calm demeanor quickly reassured the nervous Ambra and the young maid Betty, who was being protected in the center of the group.

The tomb passage, though long and deep, eventually reached its end. The soul-stabilizing bricks embedded in the walls every ten meters marked the tomb area, and as these bricks disappeared, a slightly wider area appeared ahead, resembling a crossroads.

This was the boundary between the tomb area and the underground castle, and the hub connecting the ancient secret passages.

Ambra pointed to one of the paths at the "crossroads": "I came in from that direction. It leads to a dry well outside the castle, but it’s probably occupied by monsters now."

Gauwen looked at Hetti: "Which way is west?"

Hetti drew a simple magical rune in the air, which turned into a glowing ribbon that swayed and pointed in a direction.

"That way," Gauwen said, but as he spoke, a sense of danger suddenly overwhelmed him.

Without time to think, his well-trained body reacted faster than his mind. Gauwen instinctively raised the Pioneer’s Sword to block, and immediately felt a hammer-like impact through the blade.

His body wavered but quickly stabilized, and the attackers finally appeared before everyone—three towering figures emerged from one of the dark passages at the crossroads, accompanied by a muffled, almost murmuring sound.

These were not the forms of any natural creature but rather monstrous creations that seemed to be the result of the evil creativity of necromancers and demonologists. They were nearly three meters tall, resembling withered and deformed giants, but their bodies were made of a flowing, shapeless substance like mud. This mud-like material rippled and surged on their surfaces, occasionally revealing large hollows, and within these hollows, blood-red bones could be seen.

"Ah!" Rebecca let out a short scream at the sight of the three monsters, while Betty bit her lip, on the verge of tears. Hetti raised her staff and slammed it on the ground, casting a weak dispel fear spell to counteract the monsters’ fear effect. She quickly said to Gauwen, "Ancestor, these are the monsters!"

By now, Gauwen had recovered from the shock of seeing these non-human creatures, and the corresponding memories surfaced in his mind: "These things?!"

The three monsters had already launched another attack. They continued to murmur in a dreamlike way, and two of them charged at Gauwen’s group, while the third raised its arm, and a dark energy arrow condensed in front of it, flying straight toward Ambra, who was at the front of the group.

"Ah!" Ambra let out a short scream and instantly retreated into the shadow behind Byron, reappearing a few meters away in another shadow. Byron raised his silver-glowing broadsword and, with a roar, charged at one of the monsters.

"Hetti, Rebecca, take out the one that shoots shadow arrows! Try not to use arcane magic; it’s almost useless against these things! Ambra, you and the warriors protect the spellcasters!" Gauwen shouted, then swung his sword and charged forward, bracing himself.

He had never wielded a sword in battle.

He had never seen such non-human monsters.

Despite his reincarnation, this was the first time he stood on this foreign land with his own two feet.

So he had no idea what he could achieve with the combat instincts lingering in his body, the combat knowledge in his mind that didn’t belong to him, and an ancient sword that had lost its magic.

But often, fate doesn’t give you a choice.

You stand here, the monster stands there, and you have no way out. You only have a seven-hundred-year-old antique sword, and a shield that was lost a hundred years ago by a wasteful descendant. What else can you do?

Fight, fight like hell!

They’re just aberrations, right?

The Gauwen Cecil of seven hundred years ago could take on a hundred of them alone!

Three today, and he can’t handle them?