The flickering glow of Kael's fiery illumination cast jagged shadows across the cavern walls as the group pressed forward. Hannah hovered closer to the mage, her breath visible in the chill air. The warmth from his spell provided scant comfort against the oppressive darkness.
Kael halted abruptly. Hannah collided with his back, her startled gasp muffled against his cloak. "S-sorry!" she stammered, cheeks flushing crimson as she stepped away.
"No harm done," Kael replied, his attention fixed ahead. A monolithic stone door barred their path, its surface etched with weathered glyphs.
Samuel cursed. "A dead end?"
"Not necessarily." Amelia brushed past, her gloved fingers tracing the carvings. "Constructed passages always have mechanisms." Her touch lingered on a faint protrusion—a circular indentation disguised among the patterns.
With a decisive press, grinding stone echoed through the chamber. The door shuddered, centuries of dust cascading from its joints. Light erupted from fissures as the barrier rose—not sunlight, but the cold radiance of luminescent crystals embedded in the walls beyond.
The revealed chamber stole their breath. Pillars of black marble stretched upward, supporting a vaulted ceiling where star-like gems glimmered. Frost-rimed murals depicted robed figures summoning storms and raising mountains—scenes from an age when magic shaped continents.
Hannah whispered, "This place… it's older than the Cataclysm."
The Frostvein core in Kael's satchel pulsed hungrily.
The stone chamber unfolded before them, its walls studded with shattered sconces that once held magical illumination. A narrow passage at the far end promised escape, its outline barely visible in the glow emanating from an orb embedded in the ceiling.
"Moonluster Pearl!" A mercenary's awed whisper broke the silence. The fist-sized gem radiated a soft, ethereal glow—its value evident even to those unversed in noble luxuries.
Samuel retrieved the prize using a hooked dagger, its light casting his scarred features into sharp relief. "This belongs to all," he declared, turning to Kael's group. "Half shares for you three. We'd be crowfood without your magic."
Kael nodded approval. The Captain's decision carried weight—compensation for fallen comrades would drain their coffers, yet Samuel prioritized honor over gold.
As the mercenaries celebrated their windfall, Amelia studied the chamber's fading murals. Her fingers brushed over a depiction of robed figures communing with leviathan shadows. "This wasn't mere refuge. They worshipped here."
The Frostvein core in Kael's satchel pulsed in time with the pearl's oscillations.
Amelia's voice echoed through the chamber. "This tunnel dates to the Cataclysm era. Search thoroughly—relics may linger."
The mention of the three-millennia-old disaster ignited the mercenaries' fervor. Hannah's sudden scream cut through the excitement.
Kael found her trembling before a skeletal remains slumped against the wall. The corpse disintegrated at his touch, revealing a blackened metal box beneath the ash.
Finn whistled. "Buried treasure!"
The box's intricate lock crumbled under Kael's fingers, its mechanisms eroded by time. Within lay a scroll sealed with wax imprinted with a crescent moon—a sigil none recognized.
"Cataclysm-era script," Amelia murmured, unrolling the brittle parchment. Her eyes narrowed. "Not a treasure map. A warning."
The Frostvein core in Kael's pack hummed as the scroll's ink shimmered faintly, revealing words unseen for ages: Beware the sleeper beneath the veil.
Opening the small black box revealed a parchment densely inscribed with text. "These are... magical incantations!" Kael's declaration instantly dampened the group's enthusiasm. Since he remained the sole mage present, the discovery held value only for him.
Though Kael shook his head outwardly but felt little genuine excitement. With The Book of Immortality and Ethan's legacy at his disposal, ordinary spells rarely intrigued him - unless they possessed extraordinary rarity. Compelled by duty, he examined the parchment.
His gaze sharpened abruptly. These were no common spells. Two distinct magics materialized before him: Teleportation and a fiery confinement spell named Infernal Cage. Teleportation - every mage's essential survival skill for evasion and combat - typically required mastery beyond seventh-tier magic. Yet this box's creator had achieved the impossible.
The faded ink revealed the researcher's lifelong dedication: "Through endless trials modifying syllabic patterns and elemental matrices, I succeeded in adapting Teleportation for mages below fifth-tier, though at severe mana expenditure. My hope to revolutionize magic remains unfulfilled..." The words carried palpable melancholy.
"Genius," Kael breathed, genuine awe coloring his voice. Even archmages seldom achieved such spell modifications. This discovery felt tailor-made for him. Without hesitation, he brandished his staff and chanted.
Spatial distortion rippled as Kael materialized fifteen meters distant. Though the group remained oblivious, Finn and Amelia froze mid-breath. "That was... Teleportation?" Finn stammered, disbelief warring with dread at envisioning battlefield implications.
Kael staggered as mana depletion struck - nearly thirty percent drained from a single casting. "Even modified, this demands staggering energy," he realized. "Three casts would empty my reserves entirely. Most fifth-tier mages couldn't manage two." The revelation tempered his initial exhilaration with tactical calculations.
Finn's complexion paled further. Teleportation's conventional seventh-tier requirement made Kael's demonstration unnerving. Visions of the mage blinking through combat zones while unleashing rapid-fire spells chilled him to the core.