The serpents hissed, circling again, but Nathan’s silver qi flared with desperate fury. He caught Uriel before he fell, rage and resolve burning together.

  “You idiot!” Nathan scolded him, voice raw with panic. “Why did you do that?”

  Uriel coughed blood, lips twisting into a grim smile. “I ask myself the same question. They say stupidity is catching.”

  Nathan’s retort died as another serpent lunged, its fangs snapping inches from his face. His anger surged, boiling past exhaustion. His chest burned, his dantian ignited—and the marble within him blazed to life.

  Silver light erupted, flooding his veins, his aura surging beyond control. The clearing shook as qi condensed into blades of shimmering light, slicing through the air with terrifying inevitability.

  The serpents struck together, but Nathan’s fury met them head?on. One cobra’s hood split cleanly in two, its body collapsing in a spray of venom. Another was carved apart mid?coil, scales shattering like brittle glass. The third shrieked as silver qi pierced through its skull, scattering its spirit into motes of light. Even the fourth, the one that had sunk its fangs into Uriel, was shredded in a storm of silver arcs, its massive body falling lifeless to the ground.

  The nest was annihilated in moments, the clearing drenched in venom and smoke.

  Nathan stood at the center, silver qi blazing around him like a tempest, eyes glowing faintly with light not his own. His breath came ragged, his body trembling under the marble’s power.

  Then, as suddenly as it had flared, the light dimmed. The blades dissolved into mist, and the fury drained from his veins. Nathan staggered, his knees buckling. He turned once toward Uriel, lips parting to speak—but no words came.

  He collapsed, unconscious, the marble’s glow fading back into silence.

  Uriel, bloodied and weak, dragged himself closer, his hand trembling as he reached for Nathan’s shoulder, but he passed out.

  Nathan stirred, consciousness clawing its way back through the haze. Cold stone pressed against his back—he realized he was lying on a raised pillar, one of many scattered through the vast crypt. The chamber stretched outward like a labyrinth, corridors branching into shadow, walls etched with half?eroded carvings that seemed to watch him with hollow eyes. The air was thick and putrid, heavy with the stench of rot and stagnant damp, every breath scraping his lungs.

  Uriel was slumped nearby, his breathing shallow but steady. Nathan reached out, checking his pulse, relief flickering across his face. His brother lived; the venom that had threatened Uriel’s life was gone. Nathan exhaled shakily, forcing calm into his chest. Before he could gather his thoughts, a faint sound echoed through the chamber—footsteps, deliberate yet cautious, reverberating against stone.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Nathan’s body tensed. He rose unsteadily, silver qi flickering weakly around him, ready to defend. From the shadows emerged a figure: a young man with green hair, his features striking, handsome yet cold. His presence carried something otherworldly—scales faintly traced his skin, catching the dim light, his bearing sharp and distant.

  Nathan’s eyes narrowed. “Were you the one who helped us?”

  The youth did not answer. His gaze remained sharp, unreadable, as though silence itself was a weapon. Nathan could not know it, but this was the one who had intervened—though the stranger despised mortal cultivators, his conscience had not allowed him to leave the two young men to die. Yet he would never reveal that truth.

  When Nathan stepped closer, the young man’s posture shifted instantly—defensive, guarded, every line of his body taut, as if proximity itself were a threat. The faint shimmer of scales along his jaw caught the dim light, a reminder that he was not entirely human and not inclined to trust those who were.

  Nathan steadied himself and took another cautious step forward. The youth’s eyes narrowed further, and in an instant he turned, slipping toward one of the shadowed corridors.

  But Nathan moved faster. Silver Step carried him across the chamber, cutting off the path. The young man froze, scales along his jawline shimmering faintly as his qi flared. His stance shifted, ready to strike, every muscle taut with suspicion.

  Nathan raised his hands, palms open, silver qi flickering weakly around him. “Relax,” he said, voice firm but calm. “I’m not here to fight you. I just want to thank you.”

  The words hung in the putrid air. The youth blinked, his expression flickering between suspicion and confusion. He lowered his stance a fraction, but his guard never dropped. His gaze stayed sharp and cold, as if waiting for Nathan to reveal some hidden trick.

  “My name is Nathan, by the way. What’s yours?” Nathan introduced himself, but he got no response. He tried again, softer this time. “I see you don’t want to speak. That’s fine. Can you at least tell me the way out of here?” Silence answered him. Nathan sighed, shoulders loosening. “Alright then. I’ll figure it out myself. Thank you again for helping me and my little brother. I owe you big time. If there’s ever an issue in the future, let me know and I’ll repay it.”

  But the young halfling did not take his words to heart. To him, words from mortals were like wind—empty, fleeting, meaningless.

  “Anyway, I won’t hold you any longer.” Nathan stepped back, letting the youth retreat into the shadows. He returned to where Uriel lay, settling beside him, watching over him in silence.

  An hour passed before Uriel stirred. His eyes fluttered open, and Nathan, who had been watching anxiously, broke into a grin and hugged him tightly. “Little brother, I’m so glad you’re awake. Next time don’t do something so stupid.”

  “Will you get off me already?” Uriel grouched, pushing weakly against him. He looked around, confusion clouding his gaze. “Where are we, and how did we survive?”

  “It’s all thanks to a good Samaritan,” Nathan replied. “I didn’t get his name though—he wouldn’t speak.”

  Uriel’s brow furrowed. “Someone else is down here with us?”

  “Yes,” Nathan said, his tone thoughtful. “I think he’s a half-spirit beast.”

  Uriel grimaced. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  “Are you fully healed, brother?” Nathan asked, concern edging his voice.

  “I’ll be fine,” Uriel muttered, though his pallor betrayed lingering weakness.

  With that, the two rose and began searching for the exit. The crypt stretched endlessly, corridors winding into shadow, pillars rising like broken teeth from the stone floor. Their footsteps echoed, each turn revealing more of the labyrinth’s oppressive vastness.

  But when they stumbled into the next chamber, Nathan froze. His silver qi flared instinctively, rage boiling in his chest. The sight before them was grotesque—something that should never have been. His fists clenched, fury igniting in his veins.