Your Majesty's money, why don't you engrave my name on it?

“I’m not at the point of playing tricks yet, little girl,” the witch’s head mumbled into the bag. “I have no reason to lie about this.”

The mausoleum wasn't particularly far from here, and for Raslaufer and Angelita, it was just a matter of changing their route to enter Central Inasas. Plus, they had gotten a carriage in Ersore Town beforehand, so this temporary detour wasn't too troublesome.

But everyone knew that the trouble with this operation was not "outside," but inside the ancient mausoleum.

"Witch, I must ask you one more time: Is that adamantine golem really something from inside?"

With their destination fast approaching, Vondar had to ask the witch's head again, "Is there anything like that inside? We can't handle that kind of thing!"

"Don't worry, those golems have completely lost their ability to move on their own now. They have to be manually activated with potions. As of now, only I and another little devil who has returned to Hell should know the recipe."

"In other words, even if you dance on them, those disabled guards won't even glance at you."

Near their destination was an abandoned village. A wagon laden with money could be safely hidden inside a collapsed house, concealed by vegetation. Black Claw was allowed to roam freely nearby, guarding the less intelligent "Scumbag Horses." According to the old hag, the environment of the underground tomb was unsuitable for the Deinonychus.

“I didn’t expect we would actually come here after all…” Sistine said with some emotion as she and her brother followed closely behind, their cat-like eyes cautiously surveying their surroundings. “There used to be a village here. As far as I know, most people would avoid the tombs of spellcasters like the plague.”

“At first, no one knew that a spellcaster was buried here. But they found out when they were forced to leave their homes,” the old hag said with a hint of schadenfreude. “Unfortunately, quite a few fools still tried to get their hands on it, and as a result, they all ended up rotting here, just like this village.”

"You used to make that your den?" Leslaufer walked ahead, hacking at the vegetation blocking his path with his knife.

“I can’t really be considered ‘mine,’ since I have an owner. I’m at most ‘staying here.’ And because I don’t have a key, I can’t get into the real core area,” the old hag said with a self-deprecating laugh. “If I could, I probably wouldn’t just be a head.”

Just a kilometer from the village, as sparks flew from the marble as Raslaufer's sword struck the surface, everyone knew they had finally arrived at their destination.

The mercenaries did not hit the tomb itself, nor even the surrounding wall. In the open space outside the wall, which was covered with plants, stood several monolithic decorations, worn by time and unrecognizable. Many of them, like the wall behind them, were covered with vines and other plants, and could not be noticed at all without careful observation. They were once part of the landscape surrounding the tomb, and there were probably hundreds of them.

“Typical style from the time of Richard the Great,” Angelita nodded, “rough but grand. However, the Empire generally believed that this style of architecture was just a flash in the pan, but now it seems that they were just talking nonsense.”

“After all, the occupant of this tomb who is sleeping here has the blood of the demon Chargiji flowing through his veins. It’s understandable that he would feel nostalgic for that era,” Feng Daer stroked his beard, and then sighed. “You people are so indifferent to the past of your people. How many abandoned and crumbling ancient sites have we seen along the way? Places like this should be protected. As for us, sigh…”

"We can't even find a few ancient ruins like these, not even in the Forge City..."

“Dwarves live four, five, or six times longer than humans, Vondar,” Bella said helplessly. “The ancient ruins you see are probably relics from over a dozen centuries ago, aren’t they? Few races can preserve traces of that time span, not even the elves—”

"The elves are even worse! Those pointy-eared ones are still climbing trees!" the dwarf immediately exclaimed. He couldn't allow the elves to surpass them in any way—not in any aspect!

Leslaufer didn't get involved in the discussion. He approached the stone wall, which looked like it had been crumbling for who knows how many years, carrying his battle sword, searching for a possible entrance.

Generally, such tombs have at least one obvious entrance, but the mercenary hadn't seen one yet, so his attention quickly shifted to the collapsed section of the wall.

It wasn't hard to find; although the wall was built several tens of centimeters thick, even the sturdiest stone would eventually be destroyed by the roots and stems of the climbing vines. When Raslaufer stopped, he was faced with a section of broken wall large enough for three people to climb over at the same time.

“Oh, it’s even bigger than the previous gap.” Mary brought out the widow’s head, the ghostly flame flickering, lamenting her “home” which she hadn’t returned to for many years.

"Don't be too reserved. There are no traps or mechanisms outside. Just boldly climb over."

"Not far over there, do you see that little house with the pointed roof? That used to be the room where I brewed potions. But you don't need to go see it now. All those herbs would have rotted into mud after all these years and would be useless."

"And as for this place, it's the first place you'll notice if I don't say anything..."

Although the old hag no longer has hands, it's not hard for everyone to guess the building she's referring to: stone slabs and low stone railings lead to an arched portico with stone pillars, the pointed arches and flying buttresses on both sides still extend to the sides, and at the end of the portico, the stone path sinks down, where a heavy stone door, carved with huge family crests and reliefs of deer, eagles, dire wolves, and manticores, stands silently, dividing the world of the living and the dead in two.

Chapter 294 The Giant Rat in the Tomb

“It seems the person buried here doesn’t believe in Angolan,” Angelita shrugged. “But tombs of this size are usually family cemeteries, right? Isn’t it a bit extravagant to bury only one person?”

"Who said only one person is buried here?" The witch's skull emitted a somewhat eerie laugh. "Go in, I'll tell you how to get there. Although most of the mechanisms and traps were already out of order when I lived here, there's no rule out the possibility that some of them are still functioning."

"I can think of three right now."

As the door was pushed open by Raslaufer, Bella lit the torch with a fire spell, while Daisy imbued the light source with a light spell, making it brighter than any other lamp. As the group filed into the tomb, the damage from the fight was clearly visible everywhere.

Many of these were caused by magic, but scratches from claws and various metal weapons were also everywhere. The old hag said that this was where she and Granny Nightingale first fought. She was defeated and fled inside, where she fought with her opponent several more times.

But she suffered defeat after defeat, and even when she finally hid in her lair, she could not escape her fate.

As the witch recounted her failures, Daisy looked around with intense curiosity. The bard had never observed a tomb like this before, especially since there were no fences around it and everything could be touched at will.

Her hand involuntarily reached out to touch a stone coffin placed against the wall.

“Hey you singing, stop messing around,” the old hag’s will-o’-the-wisps “eyes” had seen through everything and warned immediately. “Many of these sarcophagi are just decorations, but there are some real ones among them. They were servants in life, and in death they willingly or unwillingly guard the gates for their masters. Their burials do not follow strict rituals, so you may encounter all sorts of different situations when you open a lid.”

"Perhaps it's empty inside, perhaps there are a few old-fashioned gold coins; perhaps there's only a skeleton, or perhaps the skeleton is alive. Or worse, it might be a zombie, wearing rusty armor and carrying heavy weapons."

"In short, if you're not planning to fight your way through for a few worthless trinkets and a bunch of skeletons, don't touch these coffins."

“Undead creatures, boring.” The mercenary had never been interested in such inanimate objects. He shook his head and walked past the coffins. Daisy could only reluctantly withdraw her hand, not daring to touch the stone coffin lids again.

"Besides that, there are some little guys who don't like visitors that we also need to watch out for: the mice here."

"I fed them too much human flesh back then, using them as sentinels and eyes and eyes. Maybe after all these years, they've all died after eating everything they could, or maybe..."

"hiss--!"

Before the old hag could finish speaking, a sharp shriek rang out from the passage ahead, and something enormous was rushing through the dark corridor toward the group!

Raslaufer immediately became alert. When a pointed head, about the size of a dog's head, appeared in front of him, the mercenary immediately swung his sword, lifting the oblivious monster into the air!

The monster, which reached up to Reislaufer's knees, had its throat easily ripped open, collapsing into a pool of blood, its limbs growing cold. Its tiny claws had a somewhat endearing quality, but the pair of blood-red eyes embedded in either side of its head were utterly terrifying. Even on the verge of death, it remained greedy and ravenous, its two sharp, guillotine-like incisors snapping shut, attempting to tear at the flesh of the group.

"This is the 'rat' you were talking about?!" Rosso exclaimed in shock. "It's bigger than a dog now!"

“Of course, of course, I can see it…” the old hag replied, “but you’re wrong. It’s not that it’s bigger than a dog, but rather…”

The dying squeals of the giant rat echoed through the empty tomb, and a response soon came from deeper within: the floor beneath everyone's feet trembled with each step!

"It's them! Run!"

Feng Daer shouted, "Rat teeth are the sharpest! With a size like that, getting bitten is no joke!"

"Let's go the other way!" The old hag immediately used her will-o'-the-wisp to point the way for everyone. "There's something over there that keeps them away... This isn't the one I fattened up back then!"

"Don't they recognize their owner?!" Sistine shouted as she ran. "Can't you just make them stop?"

"How many years do rats live? The ones I raise are their ancestors for generations! And are you serious, cat? Even if some of them recognize me, why do you think showing them my skull will quiet them down?!"

"It would be more reliable to let you two little cats catch mice!"

"This rat could devour us both alive!" As he ran, Rosso turned back, drew his bow, and shot down the fastest of the large rats, which struggled and fell beside the carcass of the rat killed by Raslaufer.

To the astonishment of the spotted cat-people, when the horde of rats arrived, a small group actually abandoned their pursuit and instead pounced on the corpses of their own kind, feasting on them. However, two rat carcasses were ultimately insufficient; many more rats, having failed to secure a spot, chose to continue the chase. Even those who had been munching on the ground, after chewing and swallowing the bones, surprisingly joined the pursuit!

How long must she have been starving to look like this?!

"They run too fast!"

Daisy, who was at the very back, gritted her teeth. Just as the most aggressive rat was about to pounce on her, the poet swung his mattress, releasing thunderous energy that sent a large group of bloodthirsty rats flying.

"Well done, Daisy!" von Dahl exclaimed. "Now let's go!"

Guided by the old hag, the group wandered through several winding passages until the space in front of them finally opened up. However, before they could even ask where they were, they were instantly enveloped in a light mist as they rushed into the room in front of them!

A massive army of rats arrived shortly after, but surprisingly, they crowded around the doorway as if they were afraid of something. Even when one of their kind was pushed into the room from behind, they would desperately scramble out, as if their life or death hung in the balance in those few seconds.

“They actually stopped…” Mary muttered to herself incredulously, “But why? What made them so afraid?”

“Hmm, I don’t think it’s that hard to guess…” Angelita’s voice came from ahead, “Mary, look around you.”

Chapter 295 Gargoyle Swarm

A damp, musty smell mixed with the stench of rust filled everyone's nostrils, creaking softly as boots rolled over the damp stone bricks. Bella's knuckles were white as she gripped the torch; had the flame and light not been magically generated, it would likely have gone out by now.

Now, the flickering firelight casts swaying shadows between the twenty-seven mist-shrouded stone pillars.

Each of the gray-white stone pillars, requiring two people to encircle, was covered with cracks, revealing a dark red core beneath the peeling stone, like congealed scabs. At the top of these pillars, however, were demonic monsters crouching atop them, their wings folded, their claws digging deep into the stone. As the torchlight began to move away from them, their pupils glowed with a ghostly green like fireflies—these green dots were now slowly rotating along the path of the group, seemingly reflecting light, yet not quite uniform.

The gargoyle to Angelita's left was missing half its left ear, cracks running down its neck to its back, and dark green mold spots sprouting from the folds of its wing membranes. As she passed the third pillar, a cool droplet of water hit the back of its neck. The girl looked up and met the drooping monster's head. Between the gaps in its two rows of fangs, liquid that seemed to have condensed from the surrounding mist gathered, and the dripping sound began to echo in the empty room as the swarm of giant rats reluctantly dissipated.

The flames and light suddenly began to flicker violently, an extremely unusual phenomenon. Startled, Angrita staggered and steadied herself against a nearby stone pillar, involuntarily letting out a cry of alarm. Her palms were immediately chafed and bleeding from the rough stone. At the same time, a soft, crackling sound came from the top of the pillar, and the previously folded wings of the stone demon statues trembled, the stone edges of the wingtips brushing against her long hair.

All the eerie green lights shrank to the size of pinheads at the same time. Everyone could hear a crackling sound, but they couldn't tell whether it came from themselves, their companions, the stone pillar, or something else. Bella instinctively pressed her back against the chilling stone pillar, while the torch in her hand illuminated the grinning mouth of the monster on the opposite pillar top—where there should have been smooth carvings.

"They're alive! They're gargoyles!"

Bella's shout echoed through the empty tomb, trembling slightly. Her voice seemed to trigger some kind of mechanism, plunging the entire space into an eerie silence, as if the air itself had frozen. The sound of everyone breathing became exceptionally clear at that moment, mingling with the crackling of the torch flames, sounding particularly jarring.

Angelita's palm was still bleeding, but she ignored the pain, her gaze fixed on the gargoyle above her. Its wings were fully spread, the stone surface gleaming coldly in the firelight, as if it would pounce at any moment. Her throat tightened, and she wanted to draw her sword, but her feet felt like they were nailed to the ground.

Each pillar has a gargoyle on it, and the one opposite has already moved, which means that above her head...

"Don't move!" Raslaufer hissed, his voice carrying an undeniable authority. His gaze swept quickly across the surroundings, noticing that the gargoyles atop each pillar were beginning to move. Their wings slowly unfurled, and the liquid dripping from between their fangs dripped even faster, forming small, dark puddles on the ground.

"Slowly, come closer."

The mercenary silently assessed the situation. Was this a trap set by that hag? Did she have any other backup plans? Or were these gargoyles all there was to it?

If it's the latter, taking Angelita out will be no problem at all. Leslaufer is extremely confident about this.

After all, almost no one has ever heard of gargoyles having any magical abilities other than the ability to disguise themselves as real stone sculptures.

Stone is not as tough as steel.

"Wait! We didn't break in on purpose!" Just as the tension was about to escalate to the point of no return, the hag, now reduced to a skull, cried out, "Do you remember me? I'm Olga Willow! We used to be neighbors!"

The hag first shouted in Inasan, then spoke a long string of words in an obscure pronunciation that no one else could understand. Leslaufer guessed it might be the language used by gargoyles, but whether the hag simply repeated the Inasan message or said something else to set a trap remained unknown.

But at least, after hearing her words, the restless gargoyles around them visibly calmed down. However, this calming down was not complete. At the top of a pillar that was slightly larger than the other pillars around it, a gargoyle of similar size slowly stood up. It spread its wider and thicker wings and, as it displayed its truly axe-carved "muscle" texture, its four strong arms were also raised one after another.

It actually has four arms!

“Even dragons are only six-limbed creatures…” Daisy muttered to herself, “This big guy has eight limbs? It might as well grow into a centipede!”

The enormous four-armed gargoyle clearly couldn't understand Daisy's words. It merely glanced at Daisy with its eerie green light before opening its fanged maw and speaking to the witch in the language she had spoken earlier, appearing quite pleased, or rather, gloating.

“What are they saying?” Mary frowned. “I’m starting to wonder if this could put us in a disadvantageous position…”

"I'm afraid none of us know... I almost forgot I'm fluent in languages!"

Facing the subtle glances her companions cast her, the bard gave an awkward laugh and hurriedly began preparing her spell. Although being fluent in a language could also make the spell effective through a ritual, there was clearly no time for that now. Therefore, with a melody, the meaning of the conversation between the hag and the four-armed gargoyle quickly became clear in Daisy's mind and was then transmitted among the crowd in Imperial.

"You old hag, I still can't believe you've come to such a miserable end!" the four-armed gargoyle sneered. "You shouldn't have surrendered in the first place! Why didn't you come to us? That Night Hag could never defeat us combined!"

“Dealing with you has never been pleasant, Grimmor.” The hag noticed Daisy’s spellcasting but didn’t pay much attention. There were no traps in her conversation with the gargoyles, but these elemental creatures couldn’t understand and were unwilling to learn the language of this world, so she could only communicate with them in their native language.

"I never imagined that Nightingale would be so vicious. In my imagination back then, perhaps she would find another witch to form a gathering, and she would dominate it. Although that would still not be a good thing, it would at least be acceptable."

“Your close association with human wizards has made you forget what a witch is, forget what you are! How pathetic,” the four-armed gargoyle said, crossing his arms and placing the other pair of arms on his hips. “So now, you’re back, and with these… Have you succeeded in your revenge?”

“So you could say that… but that’s not the main point, Grimal,” the hag’s tone took on a change that shouldn’t be in a creature like her. “They’ve found the key and are going in to take a look. As the guardian, what do you think of that idea?”

Chapter 296 Self-Contradiction

"key?"

After Daisy translated the hag's words, as the four-armed gargoyle turned its green gaze, Raslaufer took out a brooch and waved it at it.

“Ha, I’ve never heard of anyone leaving a key after they die so that someone can open their coffin later,” the gargoyle’s rocky body rubbed against the ground. “Go ahead and go in if you want. That old guy didn’t pay me any money.”

These gargoyles may have once truly served as guards or henchmen for the Popazobote family, but now they merely treat this place as their lair, and they don't bother to care as long as no one has any ill intentions towards them.

"But don't say I didn't warn you: before that old guy died, he brought in a considerable amount of his work, hiding it behind that door that he sealed himself. If you think there's nothing inside that's still alive and extremely dangerous, you're sorely mistaken."

The warning given by the gargoyle was of great importance to everyone. After they left the gargoyle's lair from another direction, thus avoiding the bloodthirsty rats, everyone treaded lightly and slowly made their way deeper into the tomb in the direction the old hag had indicated.

A massive stone gate, three meters high and five meters wide—or rather, a stone gate—quickly blocked their path. Above it, inscribed with beautiful characters in Inasan:

"The last patriarch of Popazobote, the one who died without an heir, rests here with his family."

In the lower right corner of this string of words, there is a small hole. It may have once been edged with gold to draw the attention of those who came after it, but now, with the passage of time, it is just a small, gray, unremarkable pit. If Leslaufer had not carefully searched according to the size of the brooch, it would have been almost impossible to notice its existence.

“Georgie Popazobote, well, now we know who we’re going to bother,” Bella looked up at the words. “Who carved this? It’s really beautiful.”

Whether in the Empire or Inassus, calligraphy is not a very popular hobby, but a beautiful hand can indeed be a pleasure to behold.

“He himself,” the witch’s skull sighed, “went inside after leaving these last things and locked himself away.”

“He put a lot of effort into this,” even Angelita couldn’t help but agree. “Although the content may diminish its value, I’m afraid there will still be quite a few people willing to pay for it—after all, this is an ancient person whose works are unknown to the public.”

Sistine hesitated for a moment, but eventually took out a roll of paper and tried to make a rubbing of it.

The spotted cat people appreciate ancient artifacts, but they are more interested in the knowledge or stories contained within them than in their form. This race has no tradition of appreciating calligraphy and painting, and therefore has no way of recognizing the value of these external expressions.

But now that an imperial nobleman has personally asserted that it's worth a try, why not? After all, even if we lose money, it's just the cost of a piece of paper.

Sistine and Rosso will soon regret their decision. They will sell this piece of paper and the ones they make from it, but the price will be negligible compared to their eventual value at auction—but that's a story for another time.

Raslaufer stepped forward and carefully placed the brooch into the pit. The two were far from being a perfect fit, but the stone gate probably did not rely entirely on mechanical structures to operate. Only a few seconds after the brooch was placed, the gate in front of him rose with a clang, and an atmosphere even more gloomy than the outer tomb immediately rushed out.

Along with the smell came the eerie blue flames that lit up one after another on both sides of the passageway. Together they illuminated the path ahead, but the path ahead was far from bright.

"...Is it too late to regret it now?" Daisy swallowed nervously. "I feel like it's dangerous inside. Can we close the door again, pretend nothing happened, and leave far away?"