Chapter Five The Role of the Thief Miss

Highwen didn't know if the girl named Rebecca had her head knocked silly during the fight with the monsters, but he patiently said, "Although I've 'lived' here for many years... I was already dead at that time! Can you know what your grave looks like after you die?"

Rebecca thought for a moment and wanted to remind herself that the ancestral tomb of the founding monarch of Ansu was built when the king was still alive. The king even participated in the design. However, upon careful thought, she felt that mentioning this might easily get her aunt Hettie angry and killed on the spot. So, she swallowed the words in her throat and awkwardly smiled, "Ahaha... makes sense."

"Now we can't go back the same way," Hettie sighed, analyzing calmly, "The courtyard of the castle and the entrance to the ancestral tomb have been occupied by those monsters. Going back the same way is a dead end."

"We must find another way," Highwen recalled his inherited memories and said, "Seven hundred years have passed. The structure of the castle on this territory is probably not the same as it was back then."

"The upper structure has been renovated several times, but the foundation remains unchanged," Hettie quickly explained, "The entrance you mentioned should still be in its original place."

"Is that so? That makes it easier," Highwen said, reaching out to a soldier nearby, "Let me borrow a sword."

Taking the long sword handed over by the soldier, Highwen sketched on the ground. First, he drew a top view of the castle's outline, and then he drew a side view roughly divided into three layers. Although these were hastily drawn sketches, the division of the rough blocks was still clear.

"The entrance is at this location, two floors underground, next to the wine cellar and the grain storage—back then, it was the wine cellar and the grain storage. There are two passages that lead inside, but both of these passages have to be accessed from the surface, so it's probably not feasible."

Rebecca looked curiously at the rough sketch Highwen had drawn, "So, it's still a wine cellar and grain storage there, but I never knew there was a third room between them..."

"Not a room, but a mezzanine, using some architectural tricks, hidden between the walls and support beams," Highwen smiled, "At that time, this land was not peaceful. It was a borderland, and monsters emerging from the ruins of the Justorian Empire and the deranged old imperial soldiers would almost knock on the door every ten or fifteen days. The earliest Cecelian territories were almost built according to the standards of a war fortress. In such circumstances, secret passages and mezzanines were essential, useful for emergency evacuation and supplying provisions during a siege."

Sir Byron looked seriously at the simple map, then drew his own sword and traced it below the map, "So, we need to go to the entrance on the second floor of the castle... and we cannot use any surface passages, including the courtyard. This is our current location, and the ancestral tomb is built underground in the southeast direction of the castle, overlapping with about a third of the castle's foundation..."

"In that overlapping area, there should be a passage," Highwen interrupted Byron, "The tomb was built seven hundred years ago. At that time, the craftsmen were the same ones who built the war fortresses. These structures were also constructed according to the standards and rules of that time. Backup passages must exist."

Saying that, he looked at Rebecca strangely, "You really know nothing about this? These should be the knowledge passed down through generations of the Cecelian family."

Rebecca blushed and lowered her head, "I..."

"Ancestors, we have let down the glory you fought for the family in the past," Hettie bit her lip, speaking with difficulty, "The Cecelian family has gone through a lot in these seven hundred years..."

"Alright, I understand," Highwen waved his hand. This wasn't the time for storytelling, "After we leave here, I will find out more about what happened in these seven hundred years. Now, the urgent matter is to find the way from the tomb to the secret passage."

Rebecca, Hettie, and Byron squatted down to study the makeshift maps. Although they knew about the Cecelian family's ancient castle, they were not clear about the structure inside the tomb. Visiting the tomb, with its seven hundred years of history, was not like a tourist attraction with tickets to stroll around. Even a family heir had limited chances to enter the tomb, and they were not allowed to approach the ancestor's resting place.

Who knew where the secret passage was!

In the face of this problem, even Highwen's memories were useless. After all, when he died, he certainly didn't think he would climb out of his grave someday...

But just when everyone was at a loss, Amber suddenly spoke, "Um... I might know the way..."

Instantly, the gaze of everyone in the tomb fell on the half-elf thief.

Amber's neck shrank.

Hettie frowned, "How do you know?"

"I..." Amber was a bit scared, but when she saw the encouraging look from Highwen, she became bolder, "I just crawled in from there... the direction should be about right, I guess that's the secret passage."

Highwen nodded, "Good, lead the way."

Amber patted her chest, "As long as you don't blame me for digging up your ancestral tomb..."

Hettie glared at the outspoken half-elf and, holding her staff, walked towards the tomb's main door. Highwen stopped before taking a step.

"Ancestor?" Rebecca looked at him curiously.

"I need a weapon too," Highwen said. Although he wasn't the legendary duke who expanded the territory seven hundred years ago, it was common sense to find a self-defense weapon in such a dangerous place.

His gaze scanned the tomb, and a soldier took the initiative to remove the sword from his waist, ready to hand it over. However, Highwen waved off the soldier's kindness. Guided by his memories, he came to the black steel coffin and reached inside.

In the coffin, he found a completely black sword. The blade, near the hilt, faintly revealed a deep red color. The heavy long sword felt familiar and comfortable the moment it was in his hand, as if each pattern on the sword was seamlessly connected to his palm. Highwen subconsciously waved the sword twice, and each swing seemed to be meticulously forged.

He knew that these were memories left by his current body. Even though the soul had changed, every muscle still remembered how to use this weapon.

It was a pleasant surprise, but not entirely unexpected.

Apart from the residual memories in his body, he could find all the combat knowledge from Highwen Cecelian's life in his mind. It included not only basic swordsmanship and riding skills but also supernatural powers that seemed almost magical to Highwen. This part was undoubtedly tempting, but now was not the time for experimentation and learning.

Let's get out of this bad situation first.

Rebecca's eyes widened at the sight of the black sword. Her voice even trembled a bit, "Is this... the legendary Sword of Ansu, the Pioneer?"

Upon hearing Rebecca's voice, Hettie's

expression became visibly excited, "The Pioneer Sword?!"

"It's just a sharp sword now," Highwen sighed, "Seven hundred years have passed, even though the weapon blessed by the elves is not worn or corroded, the magic inside has dissipated. Recharging it, I don't know how long it will take."

Saying that, he turned to look at a small stone platform in front of the coffin. However, the platform was empty, making Highwen frown, "Wait a minute, I should also have a shield that never left my side, right? Didn't it get buried with me? How come my big shield is missing?"

Hettie's expression turned ugly, "Ancestor... your descendants have once again let down your favor. Gruman Cecelian, your descendant from a hundred years ago, took out the Guardian Shield of Ansu from the tomb, and then it was lost on the battlefield..."

Hettie hesitated to speak, obviously there were many things she didn't dare to say, perhaps fearing that if she disclosed the major event of a hundred years ago, the current patriarch might suffer a heart attack and die on the spot—even though it would be easy to just bury him in the coffin again...

Highwen could sense Hettie's hesitation, but instead of exposing it, he just scolded, "Wasteful thing... luckily the sword was in the coffin, but that Gruman hasn't gone crazy enough to pry open the ancestor's coffin to make a set!"

Hettie and Rebecca could only listen with cold sweat on their faces. Their ancestor scolding their great-great-grandfather after popping out of the coffin was already beyond the scope of fantasy. Even taking a breath felt overwhelming!

Fortunately, Highwen only felt a bit annoyed because he was missing a piece of equipment that might be useful. After scolding, he didn't say much, and instead of continuing the topic, he led everyone out of the tomb.

After leaving the tomb and entering the stone hall, Rebecca looked around and waved to a corner, "Betty! Come out! It's safe!"

The slight vibration from above interrupted Rebecca's words.

"Not the time to talk," Highwen raised the long sword and looked at Amber, "Now, lead the way."

Continued...