Moving Deeper

The three of them searched the burial chamber hall once more, meticulously checking every corner.

They left no stone unturned, examining the corners, the stone pillars, the gaps between the floor tiles, and even the wall patterns that had become mottled and peeled away by the passage of time. Sutton’s single eye scanned the gloom incessantly like an experienced hyena, refusing to overlook any corner that might hide a treasure. Herbert remained silent throughout, occasionally raising a hand to tap on the stone walls, using the subtle echoes to determine if any hidden compartments existed. As for Matthew, he suppressed the excitement of the harvest in his heart and followed the two of them in their earnest search.

After all, in an ancient tomb like this, the truly valuable items were rarely placed out in the open.

The more hidden a place was, the more likely it was to contain truly precious resources.

Unfortunately, after a thorough search, they found nothing else besides the lingering marks of battle on the floor and the wreckage of the destroyed earth golem.

Once they confirmed that nothing had been missed in the hall, the three of them finally turned their gazes toward the far end of the chamber.

There stood a heavy and ancient stone door.

Unlike the previous stone doors that had developed cracks from age, this door was exceptionally well-preserved. One could even faintly see earthy-yellow patterns shimmering slightly on its surface, clearly indicating that the tomb’s owner had applied a Reinforcement Spell to it.

And beyond that stone door lay the area that truly led into the deeper layers of the tomb.

The air seemed to grow still as they looked at it.

After a moment, Herbert spoke calmly, his voice low and brief. “Let’s go.”

Having said that, he took the lead and stepped forward without the slightest hesitation.

Sutton nodded, his single eye narrowing slightly with a look of seriousness and scrutiny. Clearly, even an experienced veteran like him did not dare to be careless when entering the deeper levels of a tomb.

As for Matthew, he took a soft breath.

The cold, dust-laden air entered his lungs, helping his slightly feverish mind cool down a bit.

He pressed down the surge of excitement and anticipation churning in his chest and followed the two of them closely.

Beyond the stone door was a passage sloping gradually downward.

The passage was not very wide, only enough for three people to walk side by side. Cold-light stones were embedded in the walls on both sides at regular intervals, emitting an eerie blue glow.

The light was cold and pale, making the entire corridor look as if it were shrouded in layers of dark, shimmering water.

The shadows of the three were stretched and distorted, swaying against the walls like strange creatures lurking in the darkness.

As they moved deeper, the smell of damp earth that had been sealed away for ages grew stronger.

It was also mixed with the faint scent of mana residue.

It was a strange sensation. It felt as if a certain power had long since dissipated with the years, yet extremely weak traces of it still remained in this enclosed underground space, lingering for a long time.

Matthew could even feel his Spirit becoming faintly active in this environment.

However, compared to the cold and oppressive surroundings, Matthew’s heart was growing hotter by the second.

The sense of danger from the previous battle had not yet fully faded from his body. The soreness in his arms from continuous spellcasting and mental strain was still clear.

Yet, despite this, he felt no fatigue at all.

This was because the reality of the harvest was simply too strong.

The heavy weight of the pouch in his clothes, the cold and hard touch of that precious metal plate, and the slight clinking of the magic stones against each other all acted like an addictive drug, constantly stimulating Matthew’s brain.

“Just a peripheral guard...” Matthew murmured inwardly as he walked. “Already possessed strength close to a Fourth-Grade Apprentice. Moreover, it dropped such precious materials and resources.”

At this thought, his eyes flickered slightly, and his heart began to race.

“Then the true owner of this tomb... the person who reached the level of a Fifth-Grade Apprentice and was very likely half a foot into the realm of an Official Wizard... just how staggering must the wealth, knowledge, experimental materials, spell models, and alchemical creations he accumulated be?”

The more he thought about it, the more hurried Matthew’s breathing became.

The emotions in his chest began to surge. Knowledge, resources, and power—these things were temptations enough to drive any low-level apprentice mad. This was especially true for someone like Matthew, who came from an ordinary background with no influence and no mentor’s support.

He understood the importance of resources all too well. In the academy, those apprentices with mentors could easily obtain potions, models, materials, and knowledge. But for someone like him, many times he had to desperately save magic stones just to earn a single experimental opportunity.

And now, a complete Fifth-Grade Apprentice tomb lay before him. It felt like a starving man suddenly seeing a magnificent feast spread out on a table. Just thinking about it made his mouth feel instinctively dry.

At that moment, Matthew’s peripheral vision involuntarily fell on Barton up ahead.

Barton was walking at the front of the team. His pace was not fast, but it was exceptionally steady. From time to time, he would reach out and lightly touch the walls as if confirming certain marks or using his years of grave-robbing experience to judge if there were any traps nearby.

His movements were incredibly natural, clearly a habit that had become almost instinctive.

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