Abnormal Change!

As for Matthew, although Sutton noticed this young apprentice had been very quiet, he knew that at a time like this, he couldn't simply order Matthew around.

Matthew was not his subordinate. More importantly, he wasn't an ordinary adventurer who could be sacrificed at will.

Therefore, the person to be sent out could only be chosen from the five subordinates he had brought with him.

Sutton’s gaze swept across the faces of the five Class holders one by one. Everyone he looked at instinctively lowered their heads or averted their gaze.

They all understood what Sutton was thinking. But no one was willing to be the one to test the sarcophagus.

The shield-bearing adventurer kept his head down, his shield still held in front of him, but his arms were clearly tense.

The young crossbowman’s lips were dry, and his eyes darted around, not even daring to meet Sutton’s gaze.

Though the female axeman didn't shrink back, the way she gripped the handle of her axe showed she was unwilling to approach that sarcophagus.

The old adventurer knew Sutton’s personality best, so he lowered his eyes and hunched his body slightly, trying his best to make himself inconspicuous.

Matthew stood behind the stone pillar, his body still and his expression calm. His position wasn't the most prominent, and since he hadn't taken the initiative to approach Sutton earlier, Sutton’s gaze merely swept over him without stopping.

Ultimately, Sutton’s gaze landed on the tall, thin scout. The man was standing toward the back of the group, holding a short dagger. His face was already pale, but after being chosen by Sutton, he froze instantly.

Matthew also looked at the man. He remembered him. His name seemed to be Noel.

Throughout the journey, Noel had mostly followed behind Sutton, rarely speaking and maintaining a low profile. He wasn't a wizard apprentice, but a scout-type adventurer under Sutton.

In terms of direct combat, he couldn't match the shield-bearing adventurer or the female axeman; in terms of experience, he wasn't as seasoned as the old adventurer; and in terms of ranged suppression, he was no match for the young crossbowman.

However, his footsteps were light, his eyes were sharp, and he was skilled at scouting paths, checking hidden compartments, and identifying ordinary traps.

Because of this, many of the narrow passages and suspicious stone doors they encountered earlier had been checked by him first. He wasn't the strongest, but he was the one most frequently sent to face danger.

Noel was thin, with sunken cheeks and slightly deep-set eyes, looking like someone who had spent a long time traveling in the wild without many stable resources. He wore a grey-black short cloak with heavily worn edges, showing coarse loose threads in several places.

Beneath the cloak was an old leather armor. The leather was dark, and there was a noticeable repair mark on the chest with uneven stitching, looking as if he or someone with poor skills had patched it up temporarily.

A short dagger hung at his waist, next to a small leather pouch bulging with fine iron wires, fire starters, powder bottles, scraps of cloth, and several small tools used for dismantling mechanisms.

Most prominent was a bone charm hanging around his neck. The charm wasn't large, its surface carved with a few crude symbols, and its edges were polished bright. It didn't look like a real magic item, but rather a cheap amulet.

But judging from Noel’s instinctive habit of touching it from time to time, he seemed to trust that charm deeply. Or rather, in the absence of anything better to protect himself, he had no choice but to believe in it.

Sutton looked at him and spoke slowly. “Noel.”

Noel’s body clearly trembled. He slowly raised his head, his lips dry. “My Lord...”

Sutton’s tone was calm, bordering on cold. “Go take a look.”

The burial chamber fell silent once more. Everyone knew what those words meant. Noel, naturally, knew as well.

His face turned even whiter, his fingers gripping the short dagger tightening repeatedly, and his Adam's apple bobbed as if he wanted to say something. But in the end, nothing came out.

Matthew watched Noel, not feeling much surprise. In a team like this, someone always had to do the most dangerous work.

And such a person would never be Sutton, nor Herbert, and certainly not someone like Matthew who also wielded wizardry. Even if there was a gap in strength between wizard apprentices, their status was ultimately different from ordinary Class holders.

Sutton could command his own subordinates, but he couldn't use the same tone to order Matthew around at will. Therefore, the ones who would truly be pushed to the front could only be the adventurers Sutton had brought.

And among these five adventurers, Noel happened to be the most suitable one. He wasn't entirely useless, which was why Sutton had brought him into the tomb. But his value wasn't high enough to make him indispensable.

He was good at scouting and checking hidden compartments, his footsteps were light, and he wasn't too cowardly. Throughout the journey, many narrow passages, suspicious stone doors, and mechanism edges were approached by him first.

This kind of person was naturally the one most often exposed to danger in the team. Now that the sarcophagus had opened, someone needed to confirm what was inside. Sutton would naturally think of him.

It was cruel. But it was the truth.

Noel clearly understood this himself. His eyes held fear, struggle, and a deeply suppressed bitterness. But notably, there was no obvious resentment. At least not at this moment.

This made Matthew’s heart stir slightly. Noel wasn't unafraid of death; he was terrified. But perhaps he had known for a long time that following someone like Sutton would inevitably lead to a day like this.

Sutton gave him protection, the qualification to enter the tomb, and the possibility of being allocated resources. In return, when someone needed to risk their life to test something, he had to step forward.

This wasn't loyalty. It wasn't willingness. It was simply the price a weakling defaulted to when making a living beside the strong.

Sutton looked at Noel and added another sentence. “Just one look.” His voice was cold, but it carried a bit more of a warning than before. “Do not touch anything inside.”

Noel swallowed hard. He nodded slowly, his voice raspy. “Yes, My Lord.”

After saying this, he took his first step. His movements were very slow, as if the ground beneath his feet had suddenly become extremely heavy, requiring great effort for every step he took.

The gaze of everyone in the burial chamber fell upon him. This attention made Noel’s spine stiffen slightly. He had never been watched by so many people at once.

But this attention didn't make him feel important; it only made him feel like a beast pushed to the edge of a trap. Everyone was watching him. Watching to see if he would die. Watching to see if he could see something clearly for them before he died.

Noel suddenly felt a bitterness in his mouth. He wanted to look back at Sutton and ask if the Lord would save him if something happened. But as soon as the thought appeared, he suppressed it himself.

It was meaningless. Asking such a question would only seem ridiculous. Sutton wouldn't give him a promise. Even if he did, it might not be true.

Noel could only continue forward. One step. Then another. The soles of his boots stepped through the dust on the ground, making a faint rustling sound.

He could hear his breathing getting heavier and his heart thumping against his ribs. The sound was so loud it seemed to ring in his ears. He gripped the short dagger at his waist.

The handle was a bit slippery from his sweat, but he still wouldn't let go. He knew this dagger was useless. If there was truly some terrifying thing left by an Official Wizard in the coffin, a short dagger wouldn't save him at all.

But holding it at least made him feel like he wasn't completely empty-handed. Five steps away from the sarcophagus. Four steps. Three steps.

Noel suddenly stopped for a moment. He seemed to hear something. The sound was very faint, almost like an illusion. Like someone speaking from far away. Or like the sound wasn't coming from outside, but surfacing from within his own mind.

Noel’s expression became even more ghastly. He couldn't hear what the voice said clearly. He only vaguely felt that it was calling him. No. Perhaps not calling. It was more like a reminder. A reminder to return. To return to the place where he truly belonged.

This thought sent a sudden chill to the depths of Noel’s heart. What did it mean to return? He had never been here before. He couldn't possibly have any connection to this sarcophagus.

He was just an ordinary adventurer relying on Sutton for a living. He was just sent to take a look. That was all.

“Noel.” Sutton’s voice came from behind. It wasn't loud, yet it made Noel’s body jerk. “Continue.”

Noel didn't dare to stop again. He grit his teeth, forcibly suppressed the eerie feeling from just now, and continued toward the sarcophagus.

Finally, he reached the side of the sarcophagus. Up close, it was even more massive than it appeared from a distance. The patterns on the surface were extremely complex, looking like countless withered blood vessels intertwined, or like some deactivated runic pathways.

Those patterns extended along the edges of the sarcophagus all the way to the bottom, each one carrying an ancient, cold, and decayed aura. Noel stood there, cold sweat constantly breaking out on his forehead.

He didn't immediately lean over to look. He needed a bit of time. Even if just a tiny bit. But the gazes of everyone behind him were like needles pricking his back.

He knew he couldn't stall for long. Sutton wouldn't allow him to just stand there. Herbert wouldn't either. Neither would the others. They were all waiting for his answer.

Noel took a deep breath. The cold air in the tomb entered his nostrils, making his head feel a bit heavy. He slowly bent down and peered into the sarcophagus.

At that moment, everyone in the burial chamber held their breath. Matthew also kept his eyes fixed on Noel. He didn't look inside the coffin; he only watched Noel’s reaction.

Because to him, Noel’s reaction at this moment was more important than what was actually inside the coffin. If Noel screamed immediately, it meant there was danger. If Noel’s body went stiff, it meant there might be a mental influence.

If Noel was suddenly dragged inside, then everyone would have to move away immediately. However, Noel didn't scream. Nor was he dragged in by anything.

He just froze. He remained in a leaning posture, motionless. The atmosphere in the burial chamber became even more oppressive.

Sutton frowned. “Speak.”

Noel didn't answer immediately. His eyes were wide open, and the fear on his face turned into bewilderment within a few breaths, then into an incomprehensible daze.

It was as if he had seen something that shouldn't have appeared. No. To be precise, he hadn't seen what should have been there.

He looked inside again. Then he changed his angle. It was still the same. Empty. The sarcophagus was completely empty.

There was no corpse. No skeletal remains. No relics of an Official Wizard. No burial goods. No monsters. There wasn't even a thick layer of dust.

There was only a dark stone surface at the bottom of the sarcophagus. In the center of the stone surface, there was a faint humanoid indentation, as if someone had once lain there, or as if the spot had been left specifically for someone.

Noel’s throat bobbed. A chill stronger than seeing a corpse crawled from the soles of his feet all the way up his back. Because this coffin wasn't just empty.

It was too clean. Too complete. It felt too much like it was waiting.

Sutton spoke again, his voice carrying a hint of impatience. “What’s inside?”

Noel slowly turned his head. His face was so pale it was almost transparent, and his lips trembled slightly. “My Lord...” He paused, as if he didn't quite believe the answer himself. “There’s nothing inside.”

Sutton’s gaze darkened instantly. “What do you mean, nothing?”

Noel’s voice was dry. “No corpse, no burial goods, and no monsters.” He paused, the incomprehensible daze still in his eyes. “It’s empty.”

As those words fell, the entire main burial chamber seemed to be pressed down by an invisible hand. All sound vanished.

Empty. The sarcophagus in the center of an Official Wizard’s tomb was actually empty when opened. No one relaxed because of this answer. On the contrary, everyone’s expressions became even more grim than before.

If there were something inside, they would at least know where the danger was coming from. But now, there was nothing. Then why did this sarcophagus open on its own?

And why did it absorb the mana from Herbert’s Detection Spell? Furthermore, what did that humanoid indentation at the bottom of the coffin actually mean?

The young crossbowman’s face was pale, and his finger holding the mechanical crossbow trembled uncontrollably. He wanted to say something, but his lips moved and no sound came out.

The shield-bearing adventurer held his shield a bit higher, his eyes fixed on Noel as if he were afraid Noel would collapse by the coffin in the next moment or turn into something that shouldn't exist.

The female axeman silently moved half a step back, the blade of her axe slightly raised, clearly already on guard against Noel. The wrinkles on the old adventurer’s face seemed to deepen.

He wasn't looking at the sarcophagus, but at the ground and the surrounding stone walls. His gaze wasn't searching for treasure, but rather for an escape route.

Noel, the tall, thin scout, stood by the coffin with a face full of daze and fear. He wasn't a stranger to tombs, nor was he someone who hadn't seen dead people. But he had never encountered a situation like this.

A sarcophagus in the center of an Official Wizard’s tomb was actually empty. It wasn't normal. It was far too abnormal.

Standing behind the stone pillar, Matthew’s heart sank when he heard the word “empty.” At that very moment, the map in his mind suddenly vibrated slightly.

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