The ichor from the defeated creature seeped into the cracks of the stone floor, vanishing as though the crypt itself absorbed it. The chamber remained unnervingly silent, the only sound their breaths and the occasional creak of settling stone.

Kaelen ran a hand through his hair, his fingers slick with sweat. "If that thing was just a piece, then we’re walking into the belly of the beast."

“We’re already here,” Sigrid said flatly, her gaze still locked on the carvings. “And leaving now would only let whatever’s stirring finish waking up.”

"Right, because easy exits are for cowards," Kaelen muttered, glancing at Nessa.

The thief was crouched beside the ichor’s remnants, her sharp eyes scanning the floor. She traced a finger through one of the runic carvings, her expression thoughtful. "I’ve seen something like this before,” she said. “Old scripts carved into vaults—meant to lock things in. Whatever’s down there wasn’t just buried. It was imprisoned.”

Kaelen sighed, resting his sword on his shoulder. “Fantastic. Let’s go find out why someone went to all that trouble, shall we?”

They pressed onward, deeper into the crypt. The air grew colder, so much so that their breaths came out in visible puffs. The light from Nessa’s torch barely pushed back the darkness, which seemed almost alive, creeping at the edges of their vision.

The narrow hallway opened into another vast chamber, this one lined with rows of stone sarcophagi. Many had crumbled with age, revealing skeletal remains within, their hollow sockets seeming to watch the intruders.

“This place is a maze,” Nessa muttered. “Who even builds something like this?”

“People with something to hide,” Sigrid replied.

“Or something they didn’t want getting out,” Kaelen added.

They continued in silence, their footsteps echoing eerily. Every so often, Kaelen would pause, his sharp eyes scanning the shadows. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.

At the far end of the chamber, they found a door unlike the others they had passed. It was carved from black stone, its surface engraved with intricate, interwoven symbols. Unlike the other parts of the crypt, this door showed no signs of decay—its edges sharp, its carvings precise.

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“This is it,” Sigrid said, her voice quiet but certain.

“How can you tell?” Kaelen asked, tilting his head.

“Because it’s pulsing,” she replied, pointing to the faint glow emanating from the carvings.

The glow was rhythmic, like a heartbeat, and standing near the door made the air feel heavier, as if the crypt itself was pressing down on them.

Nessa stepped back, crossing her arms. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say opening that isn’t a good idea.”

“Good ideas don’t pay well,” Kaelen said with a grin, stepping toward the door.

Sigrid grabbed his arm. “Wait. This isn’t like the creature above. Whatever’s sealed behind this door isn’t just dangerous—it’s ancient.”

“Danger pays even better,” Kaelen replied, though his tone was quieter now.

Sigrid moved closer to the door, her hands hovering over the glowing symbols. She muttered under her breath, her voice a mix of her native tongue and the language of spellcraft. The air around her shimmered faintly, a soft light surrounding her fingertips.

“These wards are holding back something immense,” she said. “If I break them, there’s no going back.”

“Good,” Kaelen said. “Forward is the only direction that matters.”

Nessa snorted. “You really have a death wish, don’t you?”

Kaelen glanced back at her with a smirk. “Not yet, but it’s on my list.”

Sigrid rolled her eyes and focused on the task at hand. Her magic flared, the symbols on the door glowing brighter in response. The rhythmic pulse quickened, the entire chamber trembling as the seal began to unravel.

The glow intensified until it became blinding. Then, with a deafening crack, the door split open, the two halves sliding apart to reveal a yawning abyss.

A cold wind rushed out from the darkness beyond, carrying with it a sound that could almost be mistaken for whispers. The air felt thick with malice, and the torchlight flickered violently, struggling to stay alight.

“Lovely,” Nessa muttered. “This is definitely cursed.”

Kaelen stepped forward, peering into the void. His sharp eyes caught faint glimmers in the distance—runes etched into the walls, faintly glowing with the same light as the door’s seal.

“Whatever’s in there, it doesn’t want visitors,” he said.

“Then we shouldn’t disappoint,” Sigrid replied, stepping beside him.

Together, they entered the abyss, the darkness swallowing them whole.

The space beyond was vast, far larger than the chambers above. The floor was smooth, almost reflective, and the walls were lined with massive chains, each one thicker than a man’s arm. The chains stretched across the room, their ends disappearing into the shadows.

In the center of the chamber stood a pedestal, and upon it rested an object that seemed to pulse with its own inner light. It was a shard of crystal, jagged and black, its surface shifting as though it were alive.

“That’s it,” Sigrid said, her voice barely above a whisper. “That’s what’s keeping this place sealed.”

Kaelen approached cautiously, his eyes fixed on the shard. The closer he got, the more his head throbbed, a deep, pulsing pain that seemed to echo in his skull.

“This thing feels... wrong,” he said, stopping a few feet from the pedestal.

“Because it is,” Sigrid replied. “It’s not just a lock—it’s a piece of what’s sealed here.”

“Great. So we smash it and hope for the best?” Kaelen asked.

Sigrid glared at him. “No. We leave it. Taking or breaking it would unseal everything.”

Nessa, meanwhile, was examining the chains. “I don’t think we’re alone here,” she said, her voice tense.

Kaelen turned, his hand instinctively going to his sword.

From the shadows, a deep, guttural growl echoed through the c

hamber, followed by the sound of chains rattling.

Guess it’s already awake,” Kaelen muttered, drawing his blade.