Various Spells

The three of them stopped before the fork in the road, none of them taking a step forward immediately. Sutton’s single eye narrowed slightly, his sharp gaze scanning back and forth between the two passages as if relying on his years of experience to judge which side was more dangerous. His rough fingers unconsciously rubbed the hilt of the short blade at his waist, clearly weighing his options in silence.

Herbert stood silently on the spot, his gray-blue eyes cast down toward the floor in front of the fork. A thin layer of dust covered the ground, showing almost no obvious traces, let alone any footprints or abnormalities left by traps. Yet, the more it appeared this way, the more it indicated that this place was unusual.

The surroundings fell into a sudden silence, so quiet that only the nearly imperceptible buzzing of the cold-light stone could be heard. The sound was extremely faint, but in this overly oppressive space, it became strikingly clear, adding a few more layers of tension to their hearts.

“Two paths,” Sutton finally spoke, his voice remaining raspy and low. “In a place like this, nine times out of ten, only one truly leads to the core areas. The other is either a dead end or a trap designed specifically to cause trouble.”

“If this Fifth-Grade Apprentice had a particularly eccentric temperament, I’m afraid both of these might be dead ends...”

Herbert listened without immediately replying, but the slight tightening of his expression was enough to reveal his inner struggle. He knew that while he was at the peak of the Third-Grade Apprentice rank, he was still like a stray dog on the side of the road compared to a Fifth-Grade Apprentice.

Even if that Fifth-Grade Apprentice was dead!

After a moment of thought, Herbert made up his mind. He slowly raised his right hand, palm upward, with his fingers slightly spread. Matthew noticed that extremely fine specks of pale silver light seemed to float at the edges of Herbert’s fingertips.

Those light particles were so thin they were nearly transparent, looking like wisps of spiritual light seeping from deep within his skin, rising and falling slowly with the rhythm of his breathing. Herbert pressed his lips into a cold, hard line and half-closed his eyes, his entire aura withdrawing to the absolute limit as he focused all his concentration on the passages ahead.

Matthew stood slightly behind him, his gaze shifting between Herbert’s focused profile and the fork in the road as his thoughts churned. He knew perfectly well that of these two paths, the one on the left was the illusion maze clearly marked on the map. It wasn't the correct route to the main burial chamber, but a deceptive tactic used to mislead, exhaust, and confuse the judgment of intruders.

The passage that truly led to the main burial chamber and the treasure storage areas was the seemingly calm one on the right. But he couldn't say a word. Even the slightest slip of the tongue would immediately expose the existence of the map in his possession.

At that point, the situation wouldn't be as simple as just failing to report what he knew. At least for now, he didn't want to expose his secrets to Herbert and Sutton prematurely. Matthew silently swallowed the words that were at the tip of his tongue, his expression showing no fluctuation at all.

Speaking up now would be equivalent to showing his hand directly. Moreover, while the so-called illusion maze was troublesome, it didn't necessarily mean it was fatal. At most, it would cost them some time and energy, or perhaps lead them on a few detours.

Given Herbert and Sutton’s strength, even if they took the wrong path, it wasn't impossible for them to eventually retreat. With this thought, Matthew felt a bit more at ease. “As long as it doesn't kill me... besides, watching their choices will allow me to gather a lot of information or learn some survival methods.”

“Let’s see how they choose first.” Just then, a string of extremely low and rapid syllables suddenly escaped Herbert’s mouth.

The sound wasn't the Common Tongue, nor did it resemble any spell incantation Matthew was familiar with. Its tone was strange and distorted, sounding like a whisper compressed to the extreme, yet carrying a very specific rhythm.

It was as if every syllable was precisely controlled, fitting together seamlessly without a single redundant pause. Almost at the same instant, the air around Herbert underwent an extremely subtle change. The shift was nearly indistinguishable to the naked eye, like an invisible ripple slowly spreading out from him before silently sweeping toward the entrances of the two passages.

Matthew’s spirits lifted, and he immediately focused his perception. Was this some kind of detection-type spiritual technique? Or was it a special secret art based on elemental sensing?

He could clearly feel that the spiritual fluctuations released by Herbert weren't crude; in fact, they were quite sophisticated. It wasn't a forceful power pushing forward, but rather like countless extremely fine threads, softly yet accurately probing deep into the passages.

Herbert was trying to capture structural changes, energy residues, and even subtle differences in spatial stability. From this perspective, Herbert’s judgment was undoubtedly cautious and professional. However, as time passed, Herbert’s expression gradually became solemn.

His brow furrowed slightly, and a nearly imperceptible layer of fine sweat even broke out on his forehead. Within the depths of his originally calm gray-blue eyes, a clear flash of confusion flickered, only to be replaced by a deeper level of focus. He seemed to be struggling to distinguish between extremely blurred and even contradictory feedback.

He had clearly detected something, yet he was unable to piece those scattered perceptions into a complete conclusion. Time flowed slowly as Herbert maintained his posture. The pale silver light particles at his fingertips flickered unsteadily, and his breathing rhythm became slightly more hurried than before, showing that he had pushed his Spirit to a considerably high level.

...