Crisis Erupts!

As he spoke, Noel suddenly looked up, and his eyes were no longer completely hollow.

Instead, an extremely eerie sadness surfaced within them. It was as if he truly heard many voices—voices that had waited in the darkness for far too long.

“It says... it’s not empty,” Noel’s voice trembled. “It just... hasn't been filled yet.”

As his voice fell, the others reacted with varying expressions. Matthew was inwardly shocked; this thing was actually “alive.” Or, at the very least, it wasn't just a simple, lifeless object.

It possessed some form of conscious awareness. Even if this awareness was incomplete, it was enough to influence the minds of the living, and even actively select, pull, and mark specific individuals.

Thinking of this, a chill ran down Matthew’s spine. He subconsciously looked at the expressions of the others.

Although Herbert’s face was grim, he remained relatively composed, clearly not entirely lacking in experience with such situations. However, his furrowed brows indicated that the current changes had exceeded his expectations.

Sutton’s expression was even darker. Aside from the killing intent in his single eye, there was also a moment of undisguisable shock. Seeing this, Matthew’s heart sank. It seemed Sutton and Herbert didn't know as much about this tomb as he had imagined.

They weren't the ones in control of the situation. At most, they just knew slightly more than everyone else.

Matthew cursed inwardly, then forcibly suppressed his unease, comforting himself: “If the sky fell, those taller than me would be the first to hold it up.” After all, Sutton and Herbert were the ones at the front.

Even if this thing truly awakened, it wouldn't be his turn, a low-level apprentice, to die first. But this comfort didn't ease his mind much. Matthew knew very well that when true danger arrived, the so-called “tall ones” wouldn't necessarily shield the short ones from disaster.

They were more likely to push the short ones out first.

As Matthew pondered, the group of adventurers began to fracture, unable to restrain themselves! The shield-bearing adventurer’s face was ashen, and the young crossbowman had reached his breaking point.

“Stop letting him talk!” the young crossbowman shouted, raising his mechanical crossbow and aiming it at Noel. “He’s already been influenced by that thing! If we let him keep talking, he’ll drag us all in with him!”

Noel suddenly looked at the young crossbowman, intense terror appearing in his eyes. “No! I haven't!”

The young crossbowman’s finger was already on the trigger. His hand was shaking, and the bolt was shaking along with it. But this trembling made it even more dangerous, as no one knew if he would pull the trigger in the next second out of sheer fear.

The shield-bearing adventurer immediately stepped in front of him, barking in a low voice, “Put the crossbow down!”

“I won't!” the young crossbowman’s eyes were bloodshot. “Didn't you hear him? He’s been speaking for that thing the whole time! He’s not normal anymore!”

“He is one of Lord Sutton’s men!”

“So what? He’s going to get us killed!”

“Enough!” Sutton’s voice rang out. It wasn't loud, but it was like a cold blade that instantly sliced through their argument.

The young crossbowman’s body stiffened. Sutton turned to look at him, the chill in his single eye making the man feel as if he were pinned to the spot.

“Who gave you permission to aim a crossbow at my man?”

Most of the anger on the young crossbowman’s face vanished, replaced only by panic. “Lord, I...”

“Put it down,” Sutton said, uttering only three words. The young crossbowman’s lips moved, but he eventually lowered the mechanical crossbow bit by bit. However, his eyes remained fixed on Noel.

It wasn't just him. The way the other adventurers looked at Noel had also completely changed. If they were only afraid of the marking on Noel before, they had now begun to view him as a source of danger.

Noel felt it too. Standing beside Sutton, his face was as white as a corpse’s. He wanted to explain, to tell them he hadn't betrayed them and didn't want to hurt anyone. But he didn't know how to explain it.

Because he truly had heard those voices. And he truly had said those words. Even he didn't know if those words were what he wanted to say, or if the empty coffin was using his mouth to speak.

This uncertainty brought him to the brink of collapse. Sutton didn't look at the young crossbowman again, instead turning to Herbert.

“Is there a way to temporarily suppress his marking?”

Herbert was silent for a moment. “There are risks.”

“I asked if there is a way.”

Herbert frowned and said, “We can try reverse mental stimulation to keep him conscious for a short time. But doing so might cause the marking reaction to become more violent, or it could push him directly into a collapse.”

Sutton said coldly, “Then do it.”

Noel suddenly looked up. “Lord...”

Sutton looked at him, his tone devoid of any emotion. “If you want to live, let him do it.”

Noel’s throat bobbed. He was afraid—terrified. He had heard Herbert’s words clearly. He might collapse. It might make the marking reaction more violent. But what if he didn't do it?

If he didn't, he wouldn't last much longer anyway. He could feel the attraction of that empty coffin growing stronger. He had even begun to make excuses for it in his mind.

He would feel that it wasn't death. It wasn't sacrifice. It was peace. It was returning. It was the end of fear.

These thoughts made him realize more clearly than anyone else that he was about to lose himself. Noel closed his eyes, his voice so low it was almost inaudible. “Do it.”

Herbert didn't waste any more words. He took a small silver metal ring from his waist. The surface of the ring was engraved with several simple symbols; it didn't look like a high-level item, but more like a temporary tool to assist in spellcasting.

He told Noel to sit down. But as soon as Noel bent his knees, his body suddenly stiffened. The gray light on the ground seemed to have sensed something, as several fine lines of runic light began to spread toward Noel’s feet.

Seeing this, Matthew’s gaze sharpened. It was competing for him. It wasn't just a figure of speech; it was literally fighting for him. The central altar seemed to have sensed Herbert’s intention to interfere with the marking, so it actively strengthened its pull on Noel.

“Get back!” Herbert barked.

Sutton immediately grabbed Noel and pulled him back. But Noel’s body had suddenly become heavy. His feet were stuck firmly to the ground, his boots screeching against the stone surface, yet he wasn't immediately moved.

Noel’s expression twisted instantly. “Lord!” he cried out in terror. “My feet... I can’t move my feet!”

Everyone looked down and realized that Noel’s shadow had been stretched incredibly long. That shadow didn't sway normally with the light; instead, it was like a black rope extending toward the central sarcophagus.

The other end of the shadow had already vanished into the gray light beneath the sarcophagus. Sutton’s expression changed drastically. He abruptly raised his hand, and a bolt of dark mana surged from his palm, slashing violently at the shadow beneath Noel’s feet.

Sizzle! It sounded like a red-hot iron plate cutting into wet meat. The moment the shadow was severed, a very faint, dull sound echoed from the depths of the tomb.

It wasn't the scream of an undead. It was more like a massive entity being stung while in a deep slumber. The gray light beneath the central empty coffin suddenly flickered.

In the next moment, Noel fell backward and was yanked away from the spot by Sutton. But as soon as he escaped that patch of gray light, the grayish-white line on his neck spread rapidly as if in a rage, crawling all the way to the edge of his jaw.

Noel clutched his neck in agony, curling up as suppressed low growls escaped his throat.

“Quick!” Herbert immediately knelt down and pressed the silver metal ring against the center of Noel’s forehead. A grayish-white light lit up from his fingertips.

This time, the light wasn't as gentle as a Detection Spell; it carried a distinct sense of stimulation. As soon as Noel made contact, his entire body began to tremble violently. His eyes flew open, his eyeballs bloodshot.

“Lord... I see it...”

Herbert’s voice deepened. “Don't speak. Watch my hand.”

Noel continued as if he hadn't heard, his lips trembling. “I see people in the coffin...”

Everyone’s expressions changed. Herbert barked, “Shut up!”

But Noel’s voice had become strange. It sounded like he was speaking, yet also as if many fragmented voices were mixed in his throat.

“It’s not just one person... many people... they are all lying there... they are waiting for a spot... it’s still missing...” Noel suddenly gasped, a look of extreme terror on his face. “It’s still missing six!”

Everyone in the tomb froze. Six. That number was like a cold hook, snagging everyone’s hearts.

The young crossbowman subconsciously took a step back. The female axeman’s face turned pale. The shield-bearing adventurer’s breathing became noticeably heavy for a moment. The old adventurer’s hand tightened around the fire oil bottle.

Six... Aside from Matthew, Herbert, and Sutton, there were exactly a few of Sutton’s subordinates left. Was this number just a coincidence? Or had the empty coffin truly counted out its sacrifices?

Matthew’s heart also sank. But he didn't immediately believe Noel’s words. The empty coffin could create hallucinations and exploit fear. Saying it was missing six might not be true; it could just be a way to make everyone collapse faster.

But regardless of whether it was true or false, those words had already taken effect. The way everyone looked at one another changed once more.

Who were those six? Were they Sutton’s subordinates? Or any six living people among them? If the altar only needed six people, would the rest be able to live?

Once this thought appeared, it was more lethal than any toxin. It would make everyone subconsciously think about whether they could let someone else become one of those six.

Matthew felt the atmosphere shift. Originally, everyone was just afraid of the empty coffin. Now, they began to guard against one another.

This wariness wasn't superficial. It grew from the depths of their hearts, like fine thorns slowly pricking the space between every member of the team.

Sutton, of course, felt it too. His expression was incredibly grim.

“What he says might not be true,” Sutton said coldly. “That thing can influence him, so it can naturally use his mouth to scare you. If anyone loses their head over a single sentence, I will kill them first.”

These words sent a chill through everyone’s hearts. But it did manage to suppress some of the spreading panic. At least no one dared to move back visibly.

Herbert took the opportunity to increase the light in his hand. The silver metal ring vibrated slightly, emitting a faint hum. The pain on Noel’s face became more and more apparent. His body convulsed continuously, his hands clawing at the ground until blood seeped from under his nails.

However, his eyes bit by bit regained their clarity amidst the pain. A moment later, Noel suddenly spat out a mouthful of blackish-red blood.

The blood hit the ground but didn't immediately splatter. Instead, it writhed a few times as if alive before being absorbed by the gray runes on the floor.

Herbert’s expression changed, and he immediately withdrew the silver metal ring. Noel slumped to the ground, gasping for air. The grayish-white line on his neck hadn't disappeared, but at least it had stopped spreading.

Sutton looked at Herbert. “Did it work?”

Herbert shook his head. “Only suppressed it temporarily.”

“How long will it last?”

“I don't know.”

Sutton’s eyes were dark. The phrase he hated hearing most was “I don't know.” But he also understood that for Herbert to achieve this much was already quite an accomplishment.

Just then, the gray light in the center of the tomb suddenly expanded again. This time, it wasn't a slow crawl. Instead, a ring of light surged outward. The gray light patterns swept across the ground like a tide.

“Dodge!” Herbert shouted a warning.

But the light on the ground was too fast. In the blink of an eye, it had already reached everyone’s feet.

Fortunately, Matthew had his Feathering state active, and his reaction time was far superior to that of the ordinary adventurers. Thus, the moment the light patterns spread, he retreated toward the safe zone. The gray light grazed the tips of his boots.

In that instant, Matthew felt a chill on the soles of his feet, as if countless tiny hands were reaching out from the ground, trying to seize his shadow—and his soul!

He didn't hesitate, immediately retreating further until his back was against a stone pillar. The other adventurers weren't as fast.

The shield-bearing adventurer’s shadow was caught by the gray light, and his body suddenly felt heavy as if something were dragging him down. He roared, slamming his round shield into the ground and using the counter-force to forcibly lift his feet.

The female axeman reacted quickly, her feet moving in rapid retreat while her axe blade swept across the ground. Although she didn't hit anything, it allowed her to avoid the thickest part of the gray light.

The young crossbowman, however, was a step too slow. After his shadow was touched by the gray light, his entire body suddenly froze.

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