Barton was clearly accustomed to such orders. Without the slightest hesitation or extra expression, he nodded and said in a deep voice, “Understood, sir.”
Unbuckling the pickaxe from his waist, he did not use it immediately. Instead, he squatted down, scooped up a handful of gravel and dirt from the ground, rubbed it between his fingers, and brought it close to his nose to sniff it.
Then, he stood up, his gaze like a fine-toothed comb as it swept inch by inch across the rock face ahead, the stone crevices, and the shadows where the ground met the mountain.
Matthew watched silently.
Barton moved very slowly. From time to time, he would lightly tap the rock wall with the tip of his pickaxe, tilting his head to listen to the echo.
Other times, he pressed his palm against the cold stone, feeling the subtle differences in temperature and humidity, or pushed aside a seemingly ordinary clump of brambles to examine the soil at its roots. His movements were professional and focused, completely immersed in his search for clues as if nothing else around him existed.
Time trickled by, and the light filtering through the forest grew increasingly slanted.
Just when Matthew thought it would take much longer, Barton stopped in front of a stone wall covered in a large patch of thick, dark green moss, beneath a slightly protruding rocky ledge.
He tapped several spots repeatedly, then pressed his ear tightly against the rock, listening intently.
After a moment, he took two steps back and pointed to the lower section of the moss-covered area, at a spot that almost blended in with the surrounding rock color, showing only a faint trace of a crevice. He turned to Sutton and said with certainty, “Sir, here. The tapping produces a hollow, muffled echo; it should be empty behind it. Furthermore, the growth pattern of this moss is a bit unnatural, as if it were attached later. The edges are too neat.”
Sutton and Herbert exchanged a look and stepped forward.
Herbert raised his hand, and a surge of Spirit, far more condensed than during his previous scan, stabbed like an invisible awl precisely toward the area Barton had pointed out.
After a moment, he withdrew his hand and nodded. “There is indeed a hollow space behind it. The traces of residual mana are very weak, but they do exist. It matches the description in the records of a simple concealment spell being applied to the entrance.”
“You did well.”
The last sentence was directed at Barton, his tone flat, as if praising a tool for completing its job.
Sutton immediately called out, “Entrance confirmed. Prepare to open it. The rest of you, on alert.”
Hearing the confirmation, Barton’s spirits lifted. He immediately pulled several specialized tools with slender prying blades and hooks from his pack, and began to carefully clear away the moss and the gravel and dirt around the crevice.
His movements were light and practiced, minimizing noise as much as possible to avoid triggering any potential traps.
Barton worked with care and focus, every flick of his fingers and probe of his tools carrying an indescribable precision and penetration. The dirt and gravel originally clinging tightly to the edge of the crevice seemed to have their foundations loosened by an invisible force. Under his gentle yet firm touch, they rustled and fell away effortlessly, as if they had long been waiting for him to reveal them.
Before long, the entrance to the tomb finally revealed itself before everyone's eyes.
It was an incredibly unremarkable spot—a tiny opening almost completely obscured by heavy, dark green vines and slick moss. Had Barton not verified it repeatedly with his experience and tools, anyone would have dismissed it as a perfectly ordinary natural crack in the mountain rock.
It was deep and narrow, with jagged, uneven edges that barely allowed a single person to squeeze inside with a hunched posture.
Peering inside, there was only a bottomless darkness. A cold, damp scent of earth drifted out faintly, like a silent breath from deep within the mountain.
Seeing this, a slight ripple of emotion stirred in Matthew's heart.
So skilled, so precise... It’s as if he possesses a natural affinity and understanding of the earth and rock. This is definitely not a skill an ordinary adventurer would have.
Could there really be a class in this world like 'Grave Digger' that specializes in locating and opening tombs?
A touch of vigilance crossed his mind, but he could not help but marvel at the complexity and depth of this world.
Incredible... The paths of this mortal realm are far more diverse than I imagined.
Matthew quietly suppressed this fleeting thought, his gaze falling back onto the entrance as he waited for the next command.
Sutton and Herbert stood side by side in front of the opening. Sutton's single eye scrutinized the narrow entrance, his brow furrowing slightly as he clearly evaluated the risks and inconveniences of forcing entry. Herbert, on the other hand, was much more direct. A trace of impatience flashed across his sharp face, seemingly disdainful of this primitive and crude entrance.
“No need for such trouble,” Herbert said flatly, his voice carrying a condescending casualness.
Before his voice even faded, he had already raised his right hand, spreading his fingers slightly as he aimed at the deep cave mouth.
He muttered a few syllables under his breath. There were no complex gestures, nor was there any obvious flash of magical radiance.
Yet, an invisible but majestic force surged from his palm.
A barely audible hum seemed to ring through the air.
In the next instant, a shocking sight unfolded.
The rock walls around the entrance seemed to be pried open and reshaped from within by an invisible, giant hand. The originally rough and jagged edges of the stone became smooth and orderly, and the tunnel extending inward widened and reinforced itself at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Fine stone chips rustled down, but the main structure remained exceptionally stable, as if it had undergone thousands of years of natural carving rather than instantaneous magical alteration.
In the blink of an eye, the narrow slit that barely allowed a hunched body had expanded into an arched portal about ten feet high, wide enough for two people to walk side by side.
Extremely faint, fleeting magical lines even faintly surfaced along the edges of the portal—brief traces left behind by the spell's force as it solidified the structure, which then vanished into the rock itself, leaving only a far more solid texture.
Matthew's pupils contracted slightly, waves of shock rising in his heart.
With just a casual gesture, he altered the terrain and stabilized the structure... This is absolutely not brute-force destruction, but an advanced spell involving the precise manipulation of matter!
He had seen Sutton use his abilities, and he knew that his own 【Energy Missile】 or 【Fireball spell】 were enough to shatter stone. However, he had never even heard of a spell like Herbert's, which was executed with such ease and precise control, and clearly belonged to a specific functional category of shaping and reinforcement.
...
...
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