Stone Corridor

But a small section ahead remained clear.

Matthew looked along that clear route and found two forks in the path not far ahead.

The left side was wider, but it quickly turned dark gray.

The right side was narrow, but its lines still retained their original color.

Matthew’s eyes flickered slightly.

They couldn't go left.

The left might have already been taken over by the ritual.

He was about to speak up to warn them when the tall, thin scout at the very front already shouted, “There’s a fork ahead! Left is wide, right is narrow!”

The shield-bearing adventurer immediately shouted, “Take the wide one!”

“No!” Matthew blurted out.

His voice echoed in the secret passage, causing everyone to freeze for a moment.

Herbert immediately looked back.

Sutton’s gaze also pierced over from behind.

Matthew didn't explain the map.

He merely said quickly, “There’s no wind on the left, but there is on the right.”

The tall, thin scout at the front paused, quickly trying to feel for it.

The next moment, he shouted urgently, “There really is wind on the right!”

Herbert immediately said, “Go right!”

Though the shield-bearing adventurer didn't understand, he knew they couldn't afford to delay now. He immediately dragged Noel and turned to the right.

Deep within the left passage, just a few breaths after they turned, the heavy thud of a falling stone door suddenly echoed.

Everyone felt a chill run down their spines.

If they had gone left just now, they would likely have been trapped inside and sealed off.

From behind, Sutton stared at Matthew’s back, his gaze becoming even more profound.

Him again.

It was this Matthew again.

Finding the secret passage the first time could be called luck.

But was determining the fork the second time still luck?

The suspicion in Sutton’s heart toward Matthew grew deeper and deeper.

Yet at the same time, something else arose.

He couldn't let him die too early.

At least before leaving this tomb, this Matthew was still useful.

The secret passage continued forward.

The right passage was even narrower than before.

In some places, they even had to turn sideways to squeeze through.

The young crossbowman was still unconscious, making it extremely difficult to drag him along.

The female axeman almost got stuck several times, eventually having no choice but to rip some gear off her back and throw it to the ground.

The moment those pieces of equipment were dropped, they were swallowed by the closing stone walls behind them.

The old adventurer’s eyelids twitched at the sight.

A lot of those things had been bought with hard-earned money.

But right now, no one dared to pick them up.

Life was more important than equipment.

Noel’s condition was getting worse and worse.

As he walked, he muttered something under his breath.

At first, it was unintelligible.

Later, Matthew finally caught a sentence.

“Still missing...”

“Still missing...”

The shield-bearing adventurer’s face turned grim.

“Shut your mouth.”

Yet Noel acted as if he hadn't heard, continuing to mutter in a low voice.

“Still missing...”

“Still missing five...”

The moment those words were spoken, everyone in the secret passage froze.

Still missing five.

Just now, it was six.

Why had it suddenly become five now?

Who had already been counted?

Or was the empty sarcophagus deliberately trying to scare them again?

No one knew.

And no one dared to ask.

But Matthew’s heart sank abruptly.

He immediately looked toward the main burial chamber in his mental map.

The dark spot there had deepened.

It was as if something had truly been filled in a little.

Could someone have already been left behind by the empty sarcophagus just now?

No.

All of them were still here.

Then what was it that had been filled in?

A shadow?

A portion of the young crossbowman's spirit that had been lured away by the hallucination earlier?

Or had the mark on Noel already allowed the empty sarcophagus to claim a part of him?

Matthew couldn't be sure.

But he knew that if Noel continued to follow the team, the danger would only grow.

He might be a living connection point.

As long as Noel was around, the empty sarcophagus could use him to slowly pinpoint everyone.

This thought chilled Matthew to the bone.

But he didn't speak of it.

There was no point in saying it.

Sutton wouldn't easily discard Noel.

And Herbert might not be willing to deal with Noel right now either.

As for those adventurers, once they realized Noel might continuously attract the empty sarcophagus, they would probably lose control instantly.

Losing control in a narrow secret passage would only lead to a swifter death.

So Matthew remained silent.

He merely continued to crawl forward.

Finally, the tall, thin scout's hushed yet pleasantly surprised voice came from ahead.

“There’s an exit!”

Everyone's spirits lifted.

Matthew also raised his head.

Not far ahead, a faint light indeed appeared.

It wasn't the dead-white light of a cold-light stone.

But a more natural, fainter gray-blue.

It might not be the outside of the tomb.

But at least it was a larger space.

Everyone scrambled forward desperately.

Yet just as they were about to reach the exit, the secret passage behind them shook violently.

Sutton barked, “Hurry!”

Herbert was the first to squeeze out of the narrow passage.

Matthew followed.

The moment he tumbled out of the opening, Matthew crashed onto the cold stone floor.

Ignoring the pain, he immediately scrambled up, holding his short staff horizontally in front of him.

Before him lay a long, narrow stone corridor.

The stone corridor was very old.

There were no complex runes on the walls, only some long-peeled repair marks.

There was wind in the air.

Though very cold, it lacked the suffocating chill of the main burial chamber.

Matthew felt a slight sense of relief.

They had temporarily escaped the ritual core.

At least for now.

Herbert was also observing their surroundings.

His face was still pale, but it looked slightly better than before.

“This should be the maintenance corridor on the outer wall of the tomb.”

Before Matthew could speak, the others squeezed out of the opening one after another.

The shield-bearing adventurer dragged Noel out.

The female axeman dragged the young crossbowman out.

The old adventurer practically rolled out.

Finally, it was Sutton.

Just as he emerged from the opening, the secret passage behind him slammed shut with a boom.

The stone walls ground together, making a tooth-grating screeching sound.

A few breaths later, only a seamless, solid wall remained.

It was as if that secret passage had never existed.

Everyone stared at the sealed stone wall, speechless for a long time.

They had escaped.

But everyone knew this was far from over.

Because the empty sarcophagus in the main burial chamber was still there.

The altar was still there.

And they still carried the resources taken from the tomb on their persons.

More importantly, the grayish-white mark on Noel had not disappeared.

Noel slumped on the ground, gasping for breath.

He looked up at everyone, a nearly pleading expression on his face.

“I... I can't hear it anymore,” he said. “Really, I don't hear it calling me anymore.”

But no one relaxed because of those words.

Because right after he finished speaking, Matthew clearly saw the grayish-white line on Noel’s neck twitch slightly.

Like a tiny, tiny heart.

It was still alive.

The grayish-white line on Noel’s neck was still twitching gently.

That twitch was extremely subtle.

If Matthew hadn't been staring at him, he might have easily dismissed it as an illusion caused by the shifting light.

But Matthew knew it was absolutely no illusion.

That thin line was like a tiny worm buried under his skin, or a thread extending from the main burial chamber. Although they had escaped that narrow secret passage, this thread had not broken.

It was still connected to Noel.

And perhaps, it was still connected to that empty sarcophagus.

Matthew slowly averted his gaze, choosing not to speak up and warn them.

It wasn't that he didn't want to say anything, but speaking up now would bring no benefit.

The group had only just escaped the main burial chamber, and their minds were far from settled. If he told them now that the mark on Noel was still moving, it would only reignite the panic they had barely managed to suppress.

Besides, Sutton had seen it too.

Matthew noticed that Sutton’s lone eye had also lingered on Noel’s neck for a brief moment.

Just a fleeting second.

Then, acting as if he had noticed nothing, Sutton withdrew his gaze.

This made Matthew’s heart sink a few degrees further.

Sutton hadn't missed it.

He simply didn't intend to speak of it.

Perhaps in Sutton’s eyes, Noel was still useful.

Or perhaps, before thoroughly understanding the rules of this tomb, Sutton was unwilling to easily discard anyone who might have established a connection with the empty sarcophagus.

This line of thinking was dangerous.

But it was highly characteristic of Sutton.

Herbert stood in the middle of the stone corridor, his face still pale. He reached out to support himself against the wall, his chest rising and falling slightly. Clearly, his continuous use of the Detection Spell and analyzing the flow of the runes had taken quite a toll on him.

He didn't immediately walk forward, instead looking down at the ground.

This stone corridor was different from the main burial chamber.

There were no grayish-white runes on the ground, nor any traces illuminated by the ritual's light. There was only a thick layer of dust and some long-dried footprints.

Those footprints were not new.

Their edges had been blurred by time, leaving only shallow indentations, as if someone had carried things through here many years ago.

Herbert squatted down, gently brushing away the dust with his fingers.

After a moment, he murmured, “This is not an official passage.”

Sutton looked at him.

“What do you mean?”

Herbert stood up, his gaze sweeping along both sides of the stone corridor.

“It should be the maintenance corridor of the tomb's outer layer. When building a tomb, to facilitate inspecting traps and transporting materials, craftsmen would leave such interstitial passages outside the main structure. Once the tomb is sealed, most maintenance corridors are blocked off.”

He paused slightly here.

“We were quite lucky to have made it here.”

Sutton sneered. “Luck?”

His gaze swept over Matthew, intentionally or otherwise.

Matthew didn't respond.

He merely looked down to check his leather pouch.

The leather pouch was still there.

The magic stones and materials inside hadn't been lost.

At a time like this, he could even feel a sense of reality brought by that weight. The empty sarcophagus, the shadows, and the hallucinations earlier had made everyone feel as though they were dragged into a nightmare from which they couldn't wake. But the heavy leather pouch at his waist reminded him that he was still alive, and his things were still with him.

Alive.

This was more important than anything.

As for Sutton’s suspicion, Matthew had no intention of actively explaining himself.

The more he explained, the guiltier he would appear.

He now needed to remain as inconspicuous as possible, then find the true exit.

Matthew’s consciousness sank into the map in his mind once more.

That map had become extremely chaotic in the direction of the main burial chamber, with most of the originally clear lines swallowed by a pitch-black spot. The location of that black spot was precisely the central empty sarcophagus.

However, the stone corridor they were currently in re-emerged on the map as a long, narrow outline.

This outline wasn't as wide as the main passage; instead, it wound around, extending downward along the outer wall of the tomb, with several breaks and forks along the way.

One of the lines grew increasingly dark in color.

The other line seemed to still maintain a faint clarity.

Staring at that clear route, Matthew slowly formed a judgment in his mind.

The true exit was not straight ahead.

The stone corridor straight ahead seemed stable, but on the map, it was gradually turning gray, as if it would lead to an area already affected by the ritual.

Instead, behind the right wall lay an extremely narrow old passage that bypassed the tomb's main structure, seemingly leading to a collapsed drainage outlet in the end.

That path was highly concealed.

And very dangerous.

But at least, it didn't point toward the central empty sarcophagus.

Matthew suppressed the thoughts in his heart, choosing not to speak of them immediately.

They hadn't reached that fork yet.

Speaking too early would only make Sutton more suspicious of him.

“Let's leave this place first,” Sutton said in a deep voice. “Don't stay too long.”

The shield-bearing adventurer, panting heavily, pulled Noel up from the ground.

Noel’s body was still weak, as if half his strength had been drained. With his head lowered and his gaze somewhat vacant, he repeatedly muttered, “I don't hear it anymore... I really don't hear it anymore...”

No one responded to him.

The female axeman supported the unconscious young crossbowman, her face grim.

The young crossbowman had not yet woken. Though the wound on his forehead had been simply bandaged to stop the bleeding, his mouth would twitch gently from time to time, as if he were seeing something extremely beautiful or terrifying in his dreams.

The old adventurer walked over and slapped the young crossbowman's face twice.

“Wake up.”

The young crossbowman did not react.

The old adventurer frowned, reached into his belt pouch for a bit of pungent medicinal powder, and smeared it under the young crossbowman's nose.

After a moment, the young crossbowman took a sharp breath and began to cough violently.

He was awake.

But the first thing he said upon waking made everyone fall silent.

“Where’s the door?”

The young crossbowman looked around blankly.

“I clearly saw the door open just now.”

No one answered him.

Because everyone knew that was not a door at all.

It was a hallucination given to him by the empty sarcophagus.

The blankness on the young crossbowman's face slowly turned to terror.

As if finally realizing what he had just done, his body began to tremble uncontrollably.

“I... I almost went back?”

The old adventurer said coldly, “Not almost. You were already walking back. If someone hadn't dragged you, you'd probably be lying inside that coffin right now.”

The color drained completely from the young crossbowman's face.

He spoke no more, merely gripping the mechanical crossbow in his hand tightly, as if that could bring him some peace of mind.

The team continued forward.

The stone corridor was very narrow, its walls on both sides riddled with cracks, with black moisture seeping out in some places. The wind in the air was unstable, sometimes blowing from ahead, sometimes seeming to seep out from the cracks in the walls.

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