Chapter 34 The tomb
“Your mother didn’t even come to see you off,” Vandal whispered into Sabine’s ear, his voice low enough that it was swallowed by the noise around them. His gaze drifted briefly across the crowd, as if expecting Elder Clara to appear at the last moment, but there was no sign of her. The absence lingered more than it should have.
Sabine did not bother to look. She adjusted the strap on her wrist and gave a small shrug. “I already knew she wouldn’t come. I don’t care if she does.”
“Hmph.” Yazmeen’s lips pressed into a thin line as she noticed Vandal and Sabine still talking. Her eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary before she turned away.
“You really need to stop paying attention to that boy, Yazz,” Jaclynn said, already tugging at her arm. “Let’s go.” Without waiting for a response, she pulled Yazmeen along, and the two of them stepped into the portal together.
One by one, the others followed, their figures swallowed by the white glow. When it was Vandal’s turn, the light surged forward and wrapped around him. The ground beneath his feet seemed to vanish as the world blurred into streaks of grey and silver.
When the light faded, a heavy stillness settled over everything. The air clung to his skin, thick with the scent of damp earth and something older, something that had long since decayed. Before them stretched a valley filled with jagged, obsidian gravestones, rising unevenly from the ground like broken teeth. The sky above hung low in a dull orange haze, and the wind carried a faint, steady clicking that echoed across the stone.
“Map,” Jaeden said, snapping his fingers sharply at Mael, as though calling a servant. “Show us where the first treasure location is. I didn’t come to this wasteland to breathe dust.”
Mael did not even glance at him. His attention shifted instead to Vandal and Sabine, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Stay sharp.”
Then he turned to face the disciples they were assigned to protect. A subtle shift followed as his aura spread outward. The air seemed to grow heavier, pressing down on everyone present. Conversations died almost instantly. Mael cleared his throat, and when he spoke, his voice carried weight.
“Please do not make our job difficult. Listen to us, and we will ensure this mission is successful and that you get what you deserve.”
“Damn it, he’s at stage ten resonance? Fvcking hell,” Chan muttered under his breath, though not quietly enough.
“Yes, Daddy, I will listen to you any time,” Othelia said softly, her earlier disdain nowhere to be found. Her gaze lingered on Mael longer than necessary, her tone almost playful.
“Here we go again. Why doesn’t anyone notice me?” Chan muttered, glancing down at his arms. He subtly flexed, the fabric of his singlet tightening across his muscles, but no one spared him a glance. After a moment, his shoulders slumped.
“Don’t worry. Keep flexing like that and someone might notice you eventually,” Vandal said, giving him a light pat on the back.
They began to move, following the map deeper into the graveyard. Time stretched as they walked, the dim light above slowly fading. By the time the sky darkened, the outline of a massive structure emerged in the distance.
The tomb.
Its entrance stood open, a dark maw in the earth. Figures moved in and out of it, their robes marked with symbols from various clans.
“It seems we are not the only ones who know about this place,” Mael said, his gaze sweeping across the different groups. His jaw tightened slightly. “I had hoped otherwise but this is as expected.”
As they approached, the surrounding groups took notice. Conversations hushed, and several people stepped aside, creating space without being asked.
“They are from the Unseeing Faith Sect.”
“They look dangerous.”
The murmurs spread quickly, and the distance between them and the others widened.
“Mael, do you think there are strong people here who can give us a good fight?” Chan asked, his eyes scanning the crowd with open interest. Most people avoided meeting his gaze.
“It doesn’t matter,” Mael replied without slowing down. “We get in and we get out.”
“If we don’t enter quickly, there might not be anything left,” Yazmeen said. A faint smile touched her lips before she moved ahead of the group and stepped into the shadowed entrance without hesitation.
The tomb stretched far beneath the desert, its scale impossible to grasp at a glance. The tunnel walls were coated in layers of dry, clinging sand, and the deeper they went, the more the light disappeared. Darkness gathered around them until the path ahead was barely visible.
As they moved forward, the tunnel opened into a wide hall. The ceiling arched high above, barely visible in the gloom. Cobwebs clung to the corners, thick and undisturbed, and old oil lamps lined the walls, their wicks long dried.
Other groups lingered at the edges, deliberately choosing different paths or waiting to see where the Unseeing Faith disciples would go.
Ahead of them, dozens of tunnels stretched out in different directions, each one descending into darkness.
“Vandal, which one should we take?” Sabine asked, her voice quieter now. Without thinking, she moved closer and gripped his arm, her fingers tightening slightly.
“We will take this left tunnel,” Mael said, already stepping forward. He picked up a dried lamp and handed it to Hutrar.
Hutrar lit it without a word. The flame flickered to life, casting long, shifting shadows along the walls. He had been silent the entire journey, and so had Jaeden. Though Jaeden said nothing, the tension in his gaze remained whenever it drifted toward Vandal.
“No, I don’t think we should go there,” Vandal said, just as they were about to enter.
Mael paused and looked back at him. “Why not? Do you know something I don’t, Vandal?” There was a hint of irritation in his tone.
Vandal hesitated. The words caught in his throat. “Sorry. It’s just a feeling.”
In truth, his left eye burned faintly as he stared into the tunnel. Within the darkness, shapes shifted. Thin, jagged outlines clung to the walls and ceiling, barely visible but unmistakable.
Spiders.
More groups began to arrive behind them, choosing tunnels at random. A few of the Unseeing Faith disciples lingered, watching carefully before deciding to follow at a distance.
A scream tore through the hall.
“Ahh!”
A disciple stumbled out of the very tunnel Mael had chosen. Blood streaked across his face, his breathing ragged. He did not make it far.
A strand of web shot out from the darkness, wrapping around his body and yanking him backward. His scream cut off abruptly as he was dragged into the tunnel. A series of wet, crunching sounds followed.
Silence fell for a brief moment.
Then came the movement.
Bladed legs slid into view, scraping against the stone as they emerged one after another.
Black glass spiders.
“Kheerrrgh!”
“Shit, there are too many. Run!” someone shouted.
The hall erupted into chaos. People scattered, choosing tunnels without thinking.
Mael gestured sharply, already moving. The group began to follow him toward the middle tunnel.
Vandal’s gaze darted across the maze of passages. For a brief moment, something caught his attention. A faint glow, almost hidden, flickered from the smallest tunnel on the far right.
At the same time, the middle tunnel pulsed with movement. Shapes crawled within it, unfamiliar and unsettling.
“Shit, how do I tell him that one isn’t safe either,” Vandal muttered under his breath, his chest tightening.
He grabbed Sabine’s arm before she could follow the others.
“Sabine, don’t ask me how I know,” he said quickly, his voice urgent, “but that tunnel is dangerous too. The only safe path is the one on the far right.”