Chapter 6 What's Going On

Miss Amber, an excellent master of stealth, a professional in shadow powers, and an enthusiast of grave digging, had a profound saying: "The road is there, the door is just an illusory decoration. As long as you overcome psychological issues, even the gates of the royal treasury require nothing more than a stalk of celery."

Well, this world probably didn't have celery, but for Amber, breaking into an ancient tomb didn't require celery either.

With a bit of shadow magic, some knowledge of ancient prohibitions, and a bit of luck, this half-elf thief easily cracked the seal in the ancestral tomb of Sir Cecil, revealing a passage unknown to Hettie and Rebecca.

And so, everyone followed Amber into this hidden passage.

Constructed with rocks and soul-binding bricks, the tomb passage was much more spacious than expected. Even heavy-armored knights like Highwen and Byron, with a height close to two meters, didn't feel cramped. The enchanted lamps embedded in the walls on both sides had run out, but after Hettie cast a few basic spells, these ancient lamps, seven hundred years old, lit up one after another, indicating the direction ahead.

"I'm just a small-time thief, making a living by my skills," Amber walked at the front of the group, modestly stating, "I am a descendant of forest elves, very respectful of ancestral spirits. Why would I engage in grave robbing?"

Highwen scoffed at her explanation, "With such proficiency, do you still need an explanation?"

Perhaps confirming that her life was now secured, this shameless half-elf, lacking any racial pride, spoke as confidently as she had pried open the tomb door, "Lock-picking and deciphering are essential skills in our trade. My basic skills are solid, is that a problem?"

Rebecca, who was walking in the middle of the group, suddenly asked, "Are you a resident of Cecil's territory?"

Amber frowned and thought for a moment, "I've lived in this place for several years, but I haven't applied to become an official resident. According to the rules of Cecil's territory, those who have resided for more than three years and paid taxes on time are considered residents... So, am I considered one?"

Rebecca shook her head, "Without applying, you don't count."

"Oh," Amber drawled, "Then why ask me this?"

"I am the lord of Cecil's territory," Rebecca said seriously, "So, if you are my resident, I have an obligation to protect you."

Amber exclaimed, "Could you have mentioned that earlier? Can I change my answer now?"

Rebecca replied with a serious face, "Too late."

Highwen glanced at the earnest Rebecca and then at the shameless Amber, shaking his head with a somewhat amused expression.

Although he woke up in this mess, the feeling of being alive again was much better than the previous ghostly state.

He looked at Hettie walking behind him. She had stolen glances at him several times. He had been waiting for her to speak, but seeing her hesitation, he decided to ask first, "What do you want to ask? Just say it."

Hettie was slightly surprised, but she quickly calmed down. She looked at the face of Highwen, identical to the family portrait, and carefully chose her words, "Ancestor... I find it hard to believe. Are you really...?"

"Yes, really the Highwen Cecil from seven hundred years ago, the pioneer," Highwen interrupted. "I can tell you about my experiences in the last thirty years, or do you want to hear about the events during the Second Pioneer Era? But honestly, relying on these won't prove anything. A skilled historian might be more convincing. After all, my eloquence isn't great," Highwen shrugged. "You want to confirm my authenticity, right?"

"Forgive my doubts," Hettie hurriedly said. "It's just a bit... Although stories of the resurrection of heroes exist throughout history, seeing it with my own eyes is different. I've heard that some paladins and silver elves can feign death for several years or even decades, preserving their souls and vitality with the power of light and elven magic. But I've never heard of a human knight achieving the same, let alone... seven hundred years."

"To be honest, I don't know what happened," Highwen shook his head. Although he wanted to concoct a logically sound and convincing theory to impress his great-great-great-granddaughter, he couldn't find any usable theories from his own knowledge or Highwen Cecil's memories. So, he admitted that he couldn't explain it, "Perhaps it's related to the experiences I had in my lifetime. You know, I received the blessing of the elements when I led our ancestors in pioneering the wilderness. It probably changed my constitution."

"Is that so?" Hettie said, neither confirming nor denying. She then suddenly raised her head, looking towards the path ahead.

"There's airflow," she whispered. "And a different magical reaction. The end of the tomb area should be ahead."

Highwen nodded, gripping the Pioneer Sword tightly. A vague sense of danger suddenly struck him.

Without time for much thought, his well-trained body reacted faster than his mind. Highwen raised the sword to block, feeling a heavy impact from the blade. His body swayed slightly but stabilized, and the attacker finally appeared before everyone – accompanied by indistinct, murmuring sounds, three shaky, tall figures emerged from one of the dark tunnels at the crossroads!

Their appearance was unlike any creature in the natural world; they seemed more like monsters created by the evil creativity of necromancers and demonologists. Standing nearly three meters tall, resembling deformed giants made of mud-like substance, their bodies undulated and writhed, occasionally revealing massive cavities that showcased blood-red skeletons.

"Ah!" At the sight of these three creatures, Rebecca let out a short gasp. Betty quickly bit her lip, seemingly on the verge of tears. Hettie forcefully slammed her staff on the ground, activating a weak Dispel Fear spell to counter the fear effect on everyone. Simultaneously, she urgently said to Highwen, "Ancestor, these are the monsters!"

At this moment, Highwen had recovered from the initial shock of seeing non-human monsters. Memories corresponding to these creatures surfaced in his mind, "These things?!"

The three monsters launched another attack. Uttering dreamlike murmurs, two of them strode towards Highwen's group, while the remaining one raised its arm, gathering a dark energy sphere that, in the next second, shot straight towards Amber at the front!

"Wow!" Amber let out a short cry. She instantly shrunk behind Byron, appearing in another shadow ten meters away in the next moment. Byron, the knight, lifted his silver-glowing broadsword, roaring as he charged towards one of the approaching monsters.

"Hettie, Rebecca, deal with the one casting shadow arrows! Avoid using arcane magic; it's almost useless against these things! Amber, protect the spellcasters with the warriors!" Highwen shouted loudly, then, with a swing of his longsword, charged into the fray.

He had never wielded a sword in combat.

He had never seen such non-human monsters.

Despite going through reincarnation, it was only today that he stood on the soil of this alien world with

only his combat instincts, the remnants of battle knowledge not originally his, and an ancient sword devoid of magical power. He had no idea what he could achieve in this situation.

However, many times, fate doesn't offer choices.

You stand here, monsters stand there, and there's no way out. You have no way to go up or down, just an ancient sword with a history of seven hundred years. You used to have a shield, but it was lost a hundred years ago to a wasteful family member, so what can you do now?

Fight, damn it!

Aren't these aberrations just twisted beings?

Seven hundred years ago, Highwen Cecil, one against a hundred, was the norm!

Today, with only three, still can't handle it?