It was the third raid that truly tested them.

This complex was larger, aged, and far more dangerous.

The very air seemed heavier, thick with the residue of ancient arrays.

Even before they entered, the elders warned them that two other sects were also sending groups into this complex: the Crimson Cloud Sect, their allies, and the Nine Fists Martial Sect, who held a neutral relationship with both.

The tension was palpable the moment they crossed paths with the other sects inside. Crimson Cloud disciples eyed them with respectful gaze, albeit with a hint of wariness. Meanwhile, while the Nine Fists Martial Sect disciples remained cool, aloof, and calculating.

Traps here were brutal. Walls shifted suddenly, separating disciples for moments before grinding back into place. One disciple from the Nine Fists almost lost his arm when a blade array sprung from the floor, and only the quick intervention of his Senior Brother saved him.

Han Yu and Chitterfang scouted cautiously, the little rat squeaking nervously at nearly every corner.

"It's as if the tomb itself doesn't want us here," Wu Shuan muttered, wiping sweat from his brow.

But the rewards at the end justified the blood and sweat. In the deepest chamber, sealed behind layers of shifting arrays, they discovered a cache of scrolls.

Three cultivation techniques and two skill books.

The air almost crackled with tension as the three sects confronted one another in the chamber. Nobody dared make a move, open conflict would draw elder intervention, and the sects had long-standing rules about such raids.

Even the Crimson Cloud Sect, that were technically allies with their sect were wary. After all, there was no telling when the human heart would give into greed.

In the end, Senior Brother Duan and the other seniors negotiated.

The cultivation techniques, though valuable, were incompatible with their sect's established foundation arts. The skill books were more flexible, and one in particular—a general-purpose sword technique would enhance the sect's own library.

So the division was made.

The skill books were split between Han Yu's Twin Leaf Peak group and the Nine Fists'. The cultivation techniques went to the Nine Fists and Crimson Cloud. Compensation in resources would be arranged later by the elders.

It seemed unequal at first glance, but Han Yu knew it was fair.

After all, he had no interest in foreign cultivation techniques that would clash with the the Twin Leaf Peak Sect's Signature Technique and his other skills. What mattered was the knowledge that the sect gained something of lasting value. They would be getting merit points for these anyways, so it wasn't a loss.

As they left the chamber, Fatty Kui grumbled under his breath. "All that running, all those traps, just for one sword technique? Feels like the heavens are mocking us."

Han Yu gave him a sidelong smile. "You're forgetting something. What we bring back isn't just treasure. It's proof that our sect stands equal with others. Even Crimson Cloud had to share. That alone is worth something."

Senior Brother Duan glanced at him with a flicker of surprise, as though reevaluating the young alchemist.

So passed ten days of exploration, each raid teaching them new lessons.

Not every path led to riches. Some led only to disappointment. Others to modest wealth. And sometimes, to perilous confrontations with rivals.

By the end of the tenth day, the sect's camp bustled with recovered treasures: spirit stones, herbs, manuscripts, and techniques. Elders catalogued everything, formation masters studied the shifting arrays, and disciples whispered about the hidden links between complexes.

For Han Yu, the experience was invaluable. Not only did he grow sharper in avoiding traps, but he also learned how to read the flow of opportunity amid chaos.

And deep down, a quiet thrill stirred within him. The tomb was far from finished. There were more complexes, more secrets, more dangers yet waiting in the dark.

And he would be there, watching, listening, and surviving. Just as he always had.

For now though, it was time for some well deserved rest... or so he thought.

HUALA HUALA HUALA HUALA

The camp was silent when the night's stillness was broken by a sudden ripple of energy.

Han Yu stirred, his brows furrowing in his sleep. A second later, a wave of spirit Qi rolled over the camp like the tremor of a distant storm, jolting everyone awake.

"What in the…" Fatty Kui mumbled, sitting up and clutching his blanket.

Han Yu was already out of his bedroll.

The sensation was unmistakable; powerful surges of Qi, pulsing from the direction of the tomb. Around them, disciples stirred, voices rising in confusion. The camp quickly shifted from drowsy murmurs to a commotion.

"Something's happening in the tomb!" Wu Shuan called as he stumbled from his tent.

The night sky above the tomb was no longer dark. Lights shimmered and flared within the massive structure, faint at first but growing brighter with every heartbeat.

Disciples poured out of their tents, staring with wide eyes. Some panicked, others whispered excitedly.

Several Core Condensation realm disciples immediately launched into the air, their spirit weapons carrying them aloft as they circled above for a better view. Han Yu shaded his eyes with one hand, following their silhouettes against the glowing horizon.

A voice drifted down from one of them. "Four complexes! Four of them in the middle section are glowing!"

The news spread like wildfire through the camp.

Han Yu's eyes sharpened. He remembered clearly, those complexes had been sealed, silent and immovable since the beginning of the expedition. And now, all at once, they were blazing awake.

The elders arrived swiftly, their robes trailing light as they flew to the center of the camp. With firm voices and an air of command, they quieted the gathering.

"Stay calm! Do not act rashly!" one elder boomed, his voice infused with Qi so it carried across the entire camp. "The tomb's arrays are shifting. This does not endanger the camp. Remain where you are."

The disciples obeyed reluctantly, though the air buzzed with nervous chatter. Some were frightened, others giddy at the thought of untouched treasure troves opening before their eyes.

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