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Matthew had seen too many people blinded by wealth. That kind of greed was boundless, ravenous, and unfocused, like a long-starved beast smelling blood and frantically thrashing in all directions without distinction. But Sutton was different. The light in his eyes was not overflowing or unrestrained; it was extremely focused and sharp, like an unsheathed dagger pointing precisely in a single direction. It was a searing intensity with an incredibly strong sense of purpose—the thrill of a long-schemed desire finally touching reality.

Matthew's heart sank suddenly, then quietly rose again.

He silently thought to himself that Sutton was a deeply scheming man who usually kept his emotions well hidden. Even when caught in a dangerous situation, he always maintained that calm and indifferent composure. What on earth did a man like him see to make his carefully crafted mask crack in an instant?

Quietly and inconspicuously, Matthew's gaze followed the direction of Sutton's eyes, eventually landing on the dense shadow behind the sarcophagus.

That shadow was deep and silent, like a secret intentionally left behind by the burial chamber itself, tightly concealing something within and refusing to reveal it easily. The torchlight seemed exceptionally feeble here; the flickering orange glow struggled to stretch forward, only to shrink back quietly upon touching the edge of the darkness, as if even the light itself felt an invisible taboo and oppression in this place.

Matthew instinctively combed through every detail of the map in his mind, trying to find a clue.

However, the map ultimately disappointed him.

It marked the general route, outlined the rough contours of the maze, and used simple symbols to denote key areas like the main burial chamber and the illusion maze. Yet, at the most critical juncture, it remained silent. The distribution of treasure, the arrangement of traps, the details of the chamber's furnishings... all of this was a frustrating blank on the map, as if the creator had long anticipated that true secrets could never be easily recorded on paper.

“It seems the trump card I always relied on isn't actually as solid as I imagined,” Matthew thought bitterly. “Perhaps the real trial has only truly begun the moment we stepped through this door.”

Instead of disheartening him, this thought tightened and sharpened his nerves in a strange way. He quietly took a deep breath, letting the cool air flow through his nose and down into his chest, consciously slowing his heartbeat. Shifting his center of gravity slightly, he subtly adjusted his body into a posture ready to react at any moment.

His vigilance did not relax in the slightest just because they had finally reached the main burial chamber.

On the contrary, the smoothness of their journey so far had become the heaviest weight hanging over his heart. The absence of traps, the avoidance of danger, this seemingly straightforward path... all this “smoothness” combined to emit an unsettling, artificially crafted aura. It was as if an invisible hand was quietly smoothing the way for them in the dark, and Matthew had no way of knowing what kind of calculations and schemes lay behind that hand.

And Sutton's gaze—that look of intense eagerness that had slipped out inadvertently—was undoubtedly the first clue to emerge from this fog, one well worth investigating.

Matthew lowered his eyelids to hide the churning thoughts in his eyes, keeping his lips curved in his usual calm expression.

At this moment, inside the burial chamber, the cold, eerie starlight flowed silently, illuminating the diverse expressions of the group and casting its light on the massive stone sarcophagus in the center, which seemed to have slept for countless ages.

The air was heavy. The brief sense of relief brought by the “smoothness” of the passage was now being replaced by the deeper unknown before them. A complex atmosphere of greed, vigilance, expectation, and anxiety quietly spread.

Herbert's gaze slowly swept across the secret chamber, finally landing on the heavy sarcophagus in the center.

The sarcophagus lay there silently like a giant beast slumbering in the dark, its surface covered in a thick layer of dust, yet a faint, indescribable sense of oppression emanated from its surroundings. Even without getting close, Matthew could feel that it was absolutely not a place to be touched carelessly.

Herbert fell silent for a moment, then raised his hand and spoke in a low voice,

“This space is too large. Don't be in a hurry to touch the sarcophagus in the center.”

As his voice fell, the few who were already growing restless immediately stopped in their tracks. Barton, in particular, whose eyes had been practically glued to the sarcophagus just moments ago, could only suppress his greed and take half a step back upon hearing Herbert's words.

Herbert's expression was calm, but his tone carried an unquestionable authority.

“Check the entire surrounding area first to see if there are any mechanisms, traps, or other hidden things. If there are any more guardians like the stone monster from earlier, we must find and deal with them beforehand. Otherwise, once we touch the sarcophagus and trigger some mechanism, it will be hard to handle.”

Sutton nodded upon hearing this, his single eye narrowing slightly as he scanned the shadows on both sides of the secret chamber.

“Indeed. Since the tomb owner could place an earth golem outside, there is no way this place is entirely defenseless. The closer we get to the core area, the less we can afford to be careless.”

At this point, his voice lowered slightly.

“Especially in a tomb left behind by a wizard, some of the arrangements might not be meant to stop ordinary grave robbers, but are specifically designed to deal with apprentice-level extraordinary individuals. If we rush for the sake of speed, we'll only die faster.”

As soon as these words were spoken, the hot-headed excitement of the group cooled down considerably.

The pressure brought by the earth golem from earlier had not fully dissipated, so everyone naturally knew that Sutton was not just being alarmist. If even the guard on the periphery of the tomb could be such a creature, then this secret chamber where the sarcophagus actually lay would surely be even more dangerous.

Thus, under Herbert and Sutton's arrangements, the group quickly dispersed.

Some were responsible for checking the patterns on the walls and the gaps between the stone bricks, some went behind the stone pillars to see if there were hidden compartments, and others held cold-light stones, trying their best to illuminate the corners that had long been shrouded in shadow. No one dared to rashly approach the central sarcophagus anymore. Everyone's movements became cautious, and their footsteps were kept extremely quiet, as if making even a slightly louder noise would awaken some terrifying entity.

Matthew also slowly walked to one side.

But once he actually took his steps, he realized even more clearly just how massive this secret chamber was.

When he was standing at the entrance just now, he only thought it was spacious, like a hollowed-out underground hall. But now that he had truly entered, he found his previous assessment had been far too conservative.

How was this any ordinary burial chamber?

This was practically a miniature palace buried underground.

The high vaulted ceiling was lost in the dim light. The eerie blue glow emitted by the cold-light stones could not reach the very top at all, only allowing one to vaguely discern layers of arched stone structures. The surrounding walls were extremely far from the central sarcophagus; walking through it, one couldn't help but feel an illusion of being incredibly small.

Matthew looked up, feeling a slight tightness in his chest.

This secret chamber was too big.

It was so large that it did not seem like a place built solely to bury a single person.

If this secret chamber were in his past life, it would certainly not be a project that ordinary people could build on a whim. Even with all kinds of machinery, transportation equipment, and mature construction technology, it would still require a massive amount of manpower, resources, and time. Not to mention, this world had no such level of technology.

In an era that relied on human labor, animal power, and a few extraordinary means, to excavate such a massive space deep underground while ensuring the ceiling did not collapse, the walls remained stable, and even arranging stone pillars, runes, mechanisms, and golem guards—the resources required behind this were simply beyond what Matthew could imagine for the moment.

He reached out and touched the cold stone wall beside him.

The surface of the stone wall was uneven, with some rough excavation marks remaining. Yet these marks were not chaotic; instead, they carried a strange sense of regularity, as if someone had once hollowed out the entire mountain interior inch by inch, then remodeled it according to some witchcraft requirements.

Matthew's fingertips slowly slid across the patterns, and an uncontrollable tremor of shock surged in his heart.

Was this the work of a Fifth-Grade Apprentice?

Just an apprentice, an existence that had not even truly become an Official Wizard, could actually leave behind a tomb of this scale after death.

Outside, there was an earth golem guarding the door.

Here, there was such a massive underground secret chamber.

And in the center, there was that sarcophagus which was clearly anything but simple.

So, how much power did this tomb owner wield during his lifetime? How many resources did he possess? And what kind of world had he seen?

Matthew's excitement from receiving the magic stones and metal plates earlier suddenly became complicated at this moment.

He had originally thought that he had seen a corner of the extraordinary world from those few magic stones, and had slightly grasped the interests and cruelty of the wizard apprentice level. But standing in this secret chamber now, he realized his previous thoughts were far too shallow.

Those gains might be enough to make his heart race for now.

But to someone truly standing at the pinnacle of apprentices, it was probably nothing.

A Fifth-Grade Apprentice's tomb, left behind merely after death, could make low-level apprentices like them risk their lives to sneak in, even breeding greed for the relics that might lie within. If this tomb owner were still alive, what kind of existence would he be?

Thinking of this, Matthew involuntarily looked at the central sarcophagus.

Heavy.

Silent.

Dangerous.

The thing lay there quietly, yet it seemed to be the core of the entire secret chamber. All the stone pillars, walls, runic marks, and even the subtle energy flowing in the air seemed to exist around it.

Matthew's breathing slowed slightly.

He felt both expectation and apprehension in his heart.

He anticipated that deep within such a tomb, there must be gains far exceeding those on the periphery. If he could obtain even a single piece of truly valuable item, it might elevate his strength and knowledge to a whole new level.

But he was apprehensive because the more precious something was, the less likely it would easily fall into the hands of others.

This secret chamber was so massive and so meticulously arranged; there was no way it was built simply to hold a sarcophagus.

Matthew even vaguely felt that they were not searching a dead man's burial chamber, but rather stepping closer and closer to a wizard's domain where a residual will still lingered.

Although that Fifth-Grade Apprentice had been dead for many years, his power, his arrangements, and his malice toward future intruders might still be hidden in this cold underground space.

At this thought, Matthew felt a chill run down his spine.

But at the same time, an uncontrollable fervor emerged in his eyes.

Fear was fear, but he could not deny that his heart was growing increasingly excited.

This was the extraordinary world.

Cruel, dangerous, and cold, yet filled with irresistible temptation.

The classes, tasks, and transactions he saw in the academy were like shallow surface-level matters compared to this ruin that truly belonged to a wizard. Only by stepping into such a place did he clearly feel, for the first time, just how vast the gap between wizard apprentices could be.

Fifth-Grade Apprentice.

Merely a Fifth-Grade Apprentice.

Matthew silently repeated this title in his heart, his hand subconsciously tightening.

One day, he would reach this level too.

No, perhaps not just this level.

If even the tomb left behind by a Fifth-Grade Apprentice after death could be so astounding, then what about an Official Wizard?

What kind of terrifying power would a true wizard possess?

Just as this thought emerged, Matthew's heart leaped.

He suddenly realized that his past imagination of power had been far too impoverished.

The underground secret chamber before him was like an invisible giant hand, brutally tearing open his originally narrow perception, allowing him to see the shadows and light at a higher plane.

Matthew took a deep breath, forcing himself to suppress the fluctuations in his heart.

Now was not the time for idle thoughts.

No matter how grand his ambition, he had to leave this place alive first.

He withdrew his gaze and looked back at the dark corners around him, his hand quietly moving closer to the short blade at his waist while his Spirit slowly spread outward. Although his detection abilities were far inferior to Herbert's and Sutton's, in a place like this, an extra bit of vigilance meant an extra chance of survival.

In the distance, Herbert was examining the runic marks on a stone pillar, while Sutton had circled to the wall on the other side, a cautious light gleaming in his single eye. Barton and the others did not dare to be slack in the slightest; everyone was carefully searching for any potential danger.

For a moment, the entire secret chamber fell quiet.

There were only the faint footsteps of the group, the crackling sounds of the cold-light stones burning, and low echoes of unknown origin slowly reverberating through this frighteningly vast underground space.

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