Enthusiastic applause echoed through the chamber, creating an exceedingly bizarre scene.
It was as though a magnificent performance were taking place, while Karen and the others were uninvited troublemakers who had stumbled in by accident, thoroughly out of place amid the atmosphere.
Karen noticed that the crystals embedded in the standing "spectators" had begun emitting a faint sheen.
It seemed the crystals served not only to hold them in place, but also aided in controlling the corpses.
Yet who was manipulating these bodies?
Was it some mysterious array that had run ceaselessly within the tomb, or... Karen turned his head toward the crystal coffin.
*Crack...*
A sharp snap rang out, followed by a dull grinding noise, like the sound of gnashing teeth amplified countless times.
"Prepare for battle!" Muri shouted. Shield and short blade in hand, he took position beside Ventura. Just behind and to either flank, Bart and Philomena assumed their stances.
Behind them were Blanche and Ashley.
Further back were Memphis and Mars, along with Richard, who sat there playing the injured casualty.
Alfred stood beside Karen as a free agent.
*Clang!*
The coffin tilted onto its side. A fair, slender hand reached out from within and suddenly clenched into a fist.
Instantly, the applause ceased.
The hand slowly unclasped and pressed downward.
All the "spectators" sat down.
The hand waved outward once more.
The "spectators" leaned forward in unison, returning to how they had looked before, pinned to their seats by the crystals.
Immediately after, a figure sat up from within the crystal coffin. She wore a pure white nightgown. Unlike the heavy makeup of the "spectators," she wore none; she appeared close to forty, with a slightly plump figure, giving off the impression of an aunt next door.
Yet when she opened her eyes and her gaze swept across them, a terrifying aura bore down.
Muri flicked his short blade toward those behind him.
Mars immediately whispered to Memphis, "A warrior."
Against warriors, binding and pressure arrays were best.
Memphis shook his head. "The chill in the air has dissipated; she possesses powerful spiritual energy. Set up a triple defense array."
That meant abandoning any offensive initiative in favor of pure passive defense.
Mars hesitated for a moment before agreeing, and began laying down the array with Memphis.
"I thought someone from the Congers family had come to deliver more spectators to me again, heheh."
The woman's lips did not move, but her voice echoed all around.
Then, her body floated up from the coffin. Beside her, a mirror condensed from the air, as if she were a freshly awakened lady grooming herself.
"Robes of Order... Heheh, people from the Church of Order?"
Karen spoke up. "Yes, ma'am."
Her hairstyle was antiquated, but it was a distinct style indicating she was married.
Unlike now, where aside from certain noble houses, most ordinary people no longer placed much stock in traditional hairstyles; hair salons of every sort had long since sprung up to help people flaunt their individuality.
Moreover, Karen noticed a subtle detail: a black hair clip adorned her hair, trailing a short wisp of black gauze. Such ornamentation signified that her husband was deceased; she was a widow.
"How is the Congers family doing now?" the woman asked.
"I regret to inform you, ma'am, that the Congers family fell into decline over a hundred years ago. Outside now, it is difficult to find even a single person with the surname Congers."
"Alas." The woman shook her head. "So that fellow named Piston failed to revive his family, then."
*Piston Congers?*
He had not only entered this place, but also met this woman?
From the sound of it, he had even left alive?
Yet why hadn't he made any waves after making it out alive?
The woman finished checking her appearance, and her gaze swept carefully over everyone on Karen's side. She was observing them, scrutinizing them thoroughly.
"So what brings members of the Church of Order here?"
Karen replied, "Because this place was discovered, and word reached the Church. The Church issued a mission, and upon receiving it, we came to investigate."
At a time like this, he naturally couldn't say he had snuck in to rob the tomb. He had to invoke the Church of Order to let her know that their actions were sanctioned by the Church.
"Since when has the Church of Order become so petty? Does sleeping here and entertaining myself offend the majesty of Order?"
"We only came to investigate, ma'am."
The woman raised her hand. A shadowy mass squirmed beneath her palm, attempting several times to take humanoid form, only to fail each time.
"Interesting. My shadow servant is gone. Was it killed by you?"
"I believe that may have been a misunderstanding. When we entered, it attacked us."
"A misunderstanding?" The woman nodded, seemingly accepting the explanation. "Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to make one?"
"I apologize."
"No, no, no, there is no need to apologize. Your apology is based on your doubt over whether my strength poses a sufficient threat to you, isn't it?"
"Certainly not."
The woman pointed a finger at Karen. "I cannot tell from you, but the others—subordinates, I assume—are far less composed than you. I have already read many answers from their expressions."
"It is your imposing presence, ma'am, that has unsettled my companions."
"Heheh." The woman chuckled. "If I say you may leave now, will you leave? Or will you try banding together to see if you can defeat me, and take all these..."
She gestured to the treasures resting upon the small altars around them.
"...take these things out with you?"
Without hesitation, Karen said, "We are willing to leave."
He had come to rob a tomb. Mechanisms and golems were things he had anticipated from the start, and even a corpse undergoing a bizarre mutation after the coffin was opened fell within acceptable bounds.
But the one lying in the coffin sitting up with a clear mind and conversing normally with you...
This was no longer tomb raiding; this was barging into someone's home and robbing them right to their face.
Of course, moral constraints could be set aside when appropriate, but Karen genuinely could not fathom the depths of this woman's power.
Even with crystals to aid her, commanding nearly a thousand corpses to obey her beck and call in an instant was truly frightening.
"Oh? Consenting so readily?" The woman seemed somewhat surprised.
"I offer my deepest apologies once again for disturbing you. If you require spectators... I will take responsibility for delivering them to you."
"Heheheh."
Her laughter echoed continuously through the cavern.
A tearing pain pierced everyone's eardrums at the sound of that laughter.
After a long while, the woman ceased laughing and said to Karen, "An interesting one. Far more interesting than that Piston from over a hundred years ago. But in the end, he broke his promise to me."
"I am not like him," Karen said.
"Oh?"
Karen said solemnly, "I shall uphold my promise to you, sworn upon my devotion to the God of Order!"
The woman floated away from the crystal coffin and descended before them.
She had crossed the perimeter, and Muri stepped forward without hesitation, swinging his short blade.
*Buzz!*
The woman raised a hand and caught Muri's short blade between two fingers.
Muri's eyes gleamed as the aura around him surged violently.
"A boy from the Benda family?"
The woman kicked outward.
*Bang!*
Muri was kicked flying, but barely a few meters away, an invisible force yanked him back, welcoming the woman's second kick.
Just then, a giant-sized Ventura lunged forward.
With a casual wave of her hand, a whip forged of crystal lashed directly at Ventura's body.
*Crack!*
Ventura was struck down onto one knee, the stone armor across his chest fracturing.
After taking two kicks, Muri was pulled back once more. As the third kick landed, Muri stood his ground, but blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.
By all accounts, they were supposed to be the first line of defense, but unfortunately, the front line was crushed so swiftly that when Philomena and Bart followed up, they were still too late.
Bart materialized behind the woman and slashed down with his sword.
Without even glancing back, a flash of light erupted behind her, sending Bart hurtling through the air.
Philomena appeared in front of the woman, driving a fist toward her.
The woman raised her hand to catch the fist, but caught only empty air.
A flicker of confusion crossed the woman's eyes as Philomena's fist struck her abdomen. In the next moment, Philomena's fist opened; the flesh of her palm blurred, releasing a dagger that thrust into the woman's lower abdomen.
Suddenly, a ferocious force surged forth, swatting Philomena away. Yet she offered no resistance; when landing, she let herself drop and roll across the ground, completely disregarding appearances to dissipate most of the impact.
"I actually couldn't see through your technique. How interesting, little girl."
Philomena stood up and said, "The poison on my dagger is very potent."
That was a poison mixed by Grandma herself.
"Useless against me." The woman pulled out the dagger and tossed it carelessly onto the ground. "Because I am already dead."
Just then, Muri let out a low roar and raised his blade to slash again.
The woman flashed behind Muri and kicked him squarely in the back. Muri flew out once again, but scrambled back to his feet the moment he hit the ground.
"Still able to stand? The Benda family's heritage is resilient indeed."
Mars and Memphis prepared to activate the array.
The woman raised her hand and pointed upward. Giant crystals plummeted down, each containing the head of a lizard dragon. In the corridor earlier, it had been these heads that unleashed those terrifying flames; now, roughly a hundred lizard dragon heads were trained on everyone below.
"Competing in arrays, are we? If you activate yours, I activate mine."
Mars and Memphis did not activate the array.
Alfred stepped forward, activating the Succubus Eye.
"Hm? An illusion." The woman smiled faintly. One of the "spectators" in the stands stood up, a dazed look spreading across its face.
She had deflected the effect of the Succubus Eye.
The woman's eyes flared with light. Alfred immediately fell back, clutching his eyes as a sharp, burning pain blurred his vision.
Blanche felt a chill run down her back; the woman had appeared right behind her.
When an enemy closes in on a priest, the outcome is usually tragic.
Yet Blanche suffered no attack. The woman merely reached out and toyed with a strand of Blanche's hair, remarking with a trace of envy, "You should take better care of your hair. Don't wash it too often, you know?"
Blanche froze, then nodded.
The woman left her untouched.
Ashley felt a sudden chill on her shoulder. Turning her head, she found the woman standing beside her, a hand resting on her shoulder.
"Bearing so many monster beast soul marks... aren't you exhausted?"
"I'm... alright..."
"Heh, you are quite talented. Do you have any powerful monster beasts you can summon?"
"Yes, but it requires a bit of time."
"Then let's not waste that time, shall we?"
"Okay..."
"Good girl." The woman patted Ashley's cheek. "Eating quite well, aren't you?"
Being subtly called chubby made Ashley bristle, but she didn't dare show anger.
In close combat, her skills were only marginally better than Blanche's; a casual flick of this woman's wrist could crush her skull.
In truth, their side had lost long ago.
Before absolute power, even the most meticulous teamwork counted for little.
It was just that the woman didn't seem intent on killing anyone.
Finally, the woman appeared before Karen.
Karen gripped the Sword of Arius in his hand.
The woman stopped her advance and spoke: "I can let you leave. But my condition for letting you go is that I must keep one person behind."
"I will not abandon any of my teammates," Karen answered. "Especially not in a situation like this, being picked over like goods in a market."
"No, you will agree."
The woman pulled back, trailing afterimages until she landed at the edge of the crystal coffin.
"My shadow is dead. I need one person left behind to become my new shadow. The rest may leave safely."
Even setting aside the woman's terrifying personal strength, the roughly hundred stone-carved lizard dragon heads above already gave her complete command of the battlefield.
Even now, Karen did not regret leading his team here. No matter what they had endured along the way, as long as circumstances permitted even slightly, he could never have brought himself to turn back.
From the moment they stepped into the tomb, it had truly been a matter of refusing to weep until seeing the coffin.
The present predicament could only be blamed on truly rotten luck.
Everyone reformed their battle formation, returning to the previous layout even though the woman had shredded it from front to back.
Watching their movements, the woman nodded, seemingly pleased by the caliber of these young people.
Sometimes, knowing you cannot win yet resolving to keep fighting is itself a display of courage and fortitude.
Ventura had reverted to his young boy form, his chest bloody. Clutching his wound with one hand, he raised the other: "Ma'am, let me stay behind as your shadow."
Ventura volunteered to sacrifice himself so that the captain could leave safely. For him, there was really nothing to hesitate about.
Alfred looked at Ventura's back and smiled. Still rubbing his eyes, he spoke up: "A child is no fun. Ma'am, keep me. I can tell you stories, and I can even provide musical accompaniment."
Among the eleven people present, Ventura and Alfred were the only ones who immediately stepped forward, offering to sacrifice themselves. The others lacked such resolve.
Yet Ventura and Alfred weren't doing it for the whole squad either; it was entirely for Karen.
Muri pressed his lips together, glanced back at Karen, and raised his hand: "Muri Benda is willing to stay."
He had hesitated after all, but still chose to step forward. He owed Karen a life; time to repay it.
Karen said nothing, continuing to observe closely, seeking any potential weakness in their opponent.
The woman said, "I did not ask for volunteers. Whom I keep will be decided by me."
With that, the woman pointed at Ventura and said, "What I detest most are those with distinguished family backgrounds. Both my husband and I suffered immense injustice back then for that very reason. Therefore, I will keep the one among you with the grandest family background to accompany me in enduring endless loneliness. Only that can slightly soothe the bitterness in my heart."
Ventura fell silent, knowing all too well that his family background ranked at the very bottom of the squad.
Mars, Blanche, and Bart exchanged glances. All three came from knight order backgrounds—their parents were officers within the orders, and their grandparents senior officers. In theory, their families were on roughly equal footing.
Ashley hesitated, calculating the rank of her parents' research institute and their professional titles in her head.
Richard whispered, "Does the Guman family count as high here?"
With that, Richard prepared to raise his hand.
Memphis pressed Richard's hand down. "No."
Richard insisted, "You cannot insult my Guman family!"
"I'm not."
Just then, Philomena raised her hand and declared, "Philomena Felscher. My family was once an Episcopal family of the York City Region. While I despise cliché tropes like sacrificing oneself to save teammates, I have a duty to honor my surname. I can stay behind—it's only a dream anyway, and dreaming here is no different from dreaming anywhere else."
Muri smiled and raised his hand once more. "I am willing to stay and become your shadow, ma'am. In this room, no one has a grander family background than the Bendas."
Guards captains to generations of High Priests—and the only surname this woman had recognized aloud.
Muri felt certain her target was him. After all, he had taken the worst beating just now.
The woman asked, "Are you a Whip of Order squad?"
"Yes, ma'am," Muri replied.
"Has the threshold for the Church of Order's Whip of Order squads risen so high now? And I see deep family imprints on most of you. Heheheh... What an astonishing Whip of Order squad. But... why haven't you spoken?"
The woman pointed a finger at Karen.
Ventura immediately blurted out, "Our captain is an orphan who grew up in an orphanage! His family background is even poorer than mine!"
The woman shook her head and said:
"No. Not one of your family backgrounds is fit to compare with his."
Chapter 411