Han Yu's chest tightened with excitement and unease in equal measure.

If such an array truly existed, it was both terrifying and awe-inspiring.

Terrifying, because it meant they were little more than mice in a labyrinth, dancing to the tune of an ancient formation master. Awe-inspiring, because if they could unlock it, the tomb might unfold like a treasure chest waiting to be claimed.

But he also knew this was a race. If the Crimson Cloud Sect or any other sect present managed to decipher the array first, then their own Twin Leaf Peak Sect would be at a severe disadvantage.

In addition to this, there was another reason he was interested in it. This was due to the collaboration he had planned with Meng Jueyan. If they could indeed find hidden routes that connected the different complexes, carrying out that plan might even become easier.

The bonfire burned lower as the night stretched on, the laughter and chatter slowly giving way to quieter tones. Some disciples left for their tents, while others lingered, trading theories and worries.

Han Yu, however, remained by the fire until the embers glowed red, listening intently to every scrap of information he could gather. To him, each tale, each misfortune, and each rumor was another puzzle piece in understanding the greater picture.

And as he stared into the embers, a thought refused to leave his mind: 'This tomb isn't just a test of courage or luck. It's a battlefield of knowledge. Whoever understands it first… will control everything.'

The days that followed settled into a rhythm of exploration and risk.

The tombs had revealed themselves not as a single structure, but as an entire labyrinth of complexes, each with its own strange character, rewards, and threats.

In the beginning, Han Yu had thought their first harvest from the Spirit Garden would set the tone for the expedition, but he soon learned that fortune inside the tomb was fickle.

Over the course of ten days, the sect dispatched parties again and again into new complexes. Han Yu's group joined three of these raids, each one drastically different from the last.

The first new complex they explored after the Spirit Garden was almost anticlimactic.

Chitterfang once again served as their scout, trotting ahead and squeaking warnings whenever a spike trap or falling rock array threatened to trigger.

Senior Brother Duan was more confident this time, the team better coordinated, but their hopes were dashed when they reached the innermost chamber. Instead of treasures, cultivation manuals, or weapons, what they found was… books.

Not cultivation manuals, not secret scriptures, not even alchemical recipes. Just… books.

Old, yellowing scrolls stacked in uneven piles. Bamboo slips with rotted bindings. Leather-bound tomes whose covers cracked at the touch.

Wu Shuan picked one up, blew the dust away, and began to skim. "This isn't a cultivation manual… it's a story. Something about a wandering poet traveling the kingdoms."

Fatty Kui blinked. "Wait. You're telling me we risked our lives, dodged spikes and flying darts, just to find a library?"

Han Yu reached for another text, scanning the cramped brushstrokes. The words were neat, but the content was ordinary: accounts of folk tales, genealogies of long-fallen families, even cookbooks.

There wasn't a trace of spiritual energy in the ink or paper.

"Whoever built this tomb," Han Yu said dryly, "must have been a lover of literature."

Fatty Kui groaned and plopped onto the dusty floor, spreading his arms wide as though begging the heavens for mercy. "A scholar's tomb! Just my luck. If we bring this back, the elders will beat us for wasting time."

Senior Brother Duan shook his head. "No. Even if these are useless to us, the sect will keep them. History and records sometimes contain hidden clues. Still… this is hardly worth the danger."

They packed what they could, more out of obligation than excitement. When they returned to camp that night, their harvest was met with bemusement from the elders. Some even chuckled that their group had "found the tomb's library."

It was a sobering lesson: not every tomb was filled with treasures.

Two days later, they joined another raid.

This one was more straightforward, but no less tense. The corridors here were narrower, the traps simpler but more frequent.

Chitterfang proved invaluable, slipping through the paths and squeaking when the floor trembled or when faint runes glowed along the walls. The rat was learning and was getting better as time went by.

Once, a dart trap hissed as the rat skittered past, but the tiny creature was so light and fast that none of the projectiles even brushed him.

After hours of careful progress, they reached the final chamber. Unlike the dusty "library," this one was stacked with wealth... though not quite the sort they had hoped for.

A modest pile of spirit stones gleamed in the lamplight, each one pulsing faintly with energy. Next to them were chests filled with gold and silver coins, ancient in design but still valuable.

Fatty Kui's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. "Now this is more like it! Look at all that silver! We're rich!"

Wu Shuan gave him a flat look. "Silver and gold are useful in the mundane world, but here in the sect they'll barely earn merit points. Even if you want to use them for weapons or tools, refining them further would cost more than their current worth. Spirit stones, on the other hand…"

Han Yu crouched beside the pile, testing one between his fingers. The energy was faint—these weren't high-grade stones, but low-grade ones, probably stored here for centuries. Thankfully they were kept in perfect condition so had not lost any energy.

Still, even low-grade stones had plenty use.

Senior Brother Duan nodded slowly. "A decent find. Not extraordinary, but better than nothing."

As they packed the spirit stones and coins, Han Yu couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment.

Compared to the Spirit Garden, this harvest felt shallow. Useful, yes, but not truly exciting. Still, the sect elders received the stones with approval, noting that such resources could bolster the training of lower disciples. Of course, that was after the squad's share was split.

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