Chapter 319: Bickering

Chapter 319: Chapter 319: Bickering

’They’ve only just met and they’re already bickering.’

Seraphina Sinclair dared not imagine how chaotic it would be if these three were forced to stick together every day.

Alaric Hawthorn and Lyra Lowell exchanged a few barbs while Fayestar occasionally chimed in. For a while, no one could convince anyone else.

After a moment’s stalemate, the three of them turned in unison to look at Seraphina Sinclair, who was standing off to the side, as if she were their leader.

Seraphina Sinclair: "..."

It was strange, but the matter seemed to be settled just like that.

Under their collective gaze, Seraphina Sinclair cleared her throat and spoke. "We have to see what’s ahead."

The moment she finished speaking, Lyra Lowell immediately nodded. "If we don’t go forward, we have to go back the way we came. We’ve been walking for so long. If time is a major factor in our score, turning back wouldn’t be worth it."

Alaric Hawthorn let out a cold snort but offered no further rebuttal. He simply turned and took the lead, continuing forward.

The man had a vicious tongue, but his actions proved he was always the first to charge ahead.

Seraphina Sinclair’s opinion of him was improving considerably.

The group pressed on, and before long, they reached the end of the corridor.

Perhaps because the instance had a touch of horror, the end of the corridor wasn’t a typical wall, but a large, tightly shut door.

The environment was already gloomy enough, and a door appearing in such an illogical place only added to the unsettling atmosphere.

Fayestar hugged Mimi tighter, swallowed hard, and said, "Should we... try pushing the door?"

It was a sound suggestion.

Just as Lyra Lowell had said earlier, their purpose here was to explore.

Now, their objective—or a clue to it—was likely behind that door. Not opening it would mean all their progress so far was for nothing.

Alaric Hawthorn shot Lyra Lowell a contemptuous glance before striding forward and pressing the tip of his spear against the large door.

When Lyra Lowell met his gaze, he didn’t feel the slightest bit of annoyance.

’Who cares?’

’His contempt is worthless.’

’Opening a door like this is a life-or-death gamble! If you die, you lose everything!’

’I don’t care if he looks down on me. Being dead is the only thing that’s truly pathetic.’

Lyra Lowell had it all figured out. He even took a discreet step back, intending to watch from the sidelines.

But Alaric Hawthorn wasn’t an idiot. Before shoving the door open, he glanced back at Seraphina Sinclair and said grimly, "The reward description said the payout increases substantially only if everyone survives."

He didn’t spell it out, but the other three understood perfectly.

If something were to happen to him, the rest of them wouldn’t be getting any major benefits either.

Seraphina Sinclair said nothing, merely taking a silent step forward.

It was only a single step, but it made her intentions clear.

Fayestar, who usually looked a bit dazed, was now displaying a shrewdness that completely belied her appearance.

She followed Seraphina forward, one hand gripping her weapon tightly, the other giving the reluctant Lyra Lowell a push.

Lyra Lowell could no longer stand aside as if it had nothing to do with him.

He gritted his teeth, bit the bullet, and shuffled half a step forward.

Now that things had come to this, all he could do was prepare for a fight and pray that whatever was behind the door wasn’t an instant-kill threat.

Seeing this, Alaric Hawthorn looked as if he’d won a victory. He let out another disdainful snort, and without further hesitation, his arm muscles bulged as he braced his spear against the door and gave it a mighty shove.

"CREAK—SCRAAAPE—!"

The heavy door emitted a grating scrape as it slowly swung inward, releasing a blast of stale air thick with dust and a foul, coppery stench.

That stench was all too familiar.

Seraphina Sinclair was instantly reminded of the corpse in the previous room.

The expressions on the other three’s faces turned grim; they had clearly made the same connection.

Alaric Hawthorn glanced back, raising an eyebrow. "Go down and take a look?"

Lyra Lowell knew the comment was aimed at him. Without refusing, he gave a cold snort of his own, gripped his spear, and walked to the front.

Seraphina Sinclair was, of course, delighted to see someone volunteer to scout ahead.

She glanced at Fayestar beside her, who had also narrowed her eyes in delight. She looked just like a cunning old fox.

Seraphina Sinclair paused, then quickly collected herself and impassively averted her gaze.

’Well, then.’

’So, in this four-person squad, the most simple-minded ones are actually the two male teammates who wear their hearts on their sleeves.’

Alaric Hawthorn would fight to the death over pride, not practical gain, while Lyra Lowell was a schemer who constantly outsmarted himself.

’For Seraphina Sinclair, this was actually a good thing.’

She followed silently behind, watching Lyra Lowell grip his Short Spear and descend cautiously, one step at a time.

The dim light barely illuminated the outline of the staircase. Just a few steps down, a bottomless darkness yawned like a giant, man-eating maw.

The coppery stench was almost tangible, swirling up the stairs to assault their senses.

After about twenty or thirty steps, the heart-pounding, steep descent finally gave way to a gentler passageway.

The stench in the air grew stronger, becoming almost acridly pungent.

The sides of the passage were no longer rough-hewn stone; faint traces of artificial carving were visible, as well as... large, splattered stains that had long since congealed and blackened.

"Blood."

Alaric Hawthorn’s single word was brutally concise, his voice ringing with startling clarity in the oppressive space.

He tightened his grip on his spear, his sharp gaze sweeping across the darkness ahead.

Meanwhile, Lyra Lowell, who was at the very front, was filled with immense regret for getting into a snit with Alaric Hawthorn.

’I should have argued with him more!’

’This place is obviously bad news!’

His expression remained tense until he descended the last few steps and the space before him suddenly opened up.

The ground beneath his feet was no longer steps, but had changed to relatively flat Stone Tablets.

The passageway widened slightly here, forming a small, antechamber-like space.

Directly ahead of them was another door.

Unlike the heavy one before, this door looked more ancient and sturdily built. Its surface was covered in deep gouges, as if something sharp had repeatedly clawed at it.

But what was even more striking were the countless corpses standing on either side of the door!

These corpses were identical to the one from the other room. Their bodies were twisted, yet they stood there eerily, filling the entire space from the door to the foot of the stairs.

And so, the moment Lyra Lowell stepped onto the Stone Tablet, he came face-to-face with a corpse, their eyes meeting.

He was so frightened he nearly threw his Short Spear, leaping back half a step and crashing right into Alaric Hawthorn, who was close behind.

Alaric Hawthorn stumbled from the impact. His brow furrowed as he growled, "What are you panicking for? Stand your ground!"

His reprimand failed to completely quell the commotion in the party.

Fayestar gasped and instinctively shrank closer to Seraphina Sinclair, whose gaze had already locked onto the statue-like corpses.

For some reason, she had a feeling that these things would eventually come to life.

’But for now, they are definitely not moving.’