In the dim tunnel, the retired Black Scripture group advanced slowly.
The magic caster walked at the front, his staff giving off a faint glow that pushed back the darkness.
As they went deeper, everyone's nerves tightened. They scanned their surroundings with heightened vigilance, ready for an undead ambush at any moment.
[Magic Detection]
Every so often, the magic caster would toss out a detection spell.
A dark tunnel like this was the perfect place to set traps.
Yet to their surprise, the detection spells showed nothing at all.
"Strange. Not a single trap the whole way?"
They exchanged puzzled looks, but continued forward.
"Wait..."
Footsteps echoed ahead.
In the staff's light, they could just make out a group of undead. Roughly a few dozen.
"Low-tier skeleton undead?"
Under [Magic Detection], they confirmed these were ordinary skeletons. There were no skeleton mages or anything similar mixed in.
"Deal with them."
As retired members of the Black Scripture, every person in the squad had at least hero-class strength. Any one of them could wipe out this sort of enemy with ease.
The low-tier undead posed no threat. They did not even need to draw weapons before the fight was over.
"Are they testing us?"
"Maybe they're trying to wear us down with low-tier undead."
"Then there's definitely an intelligent Elder Lich behind this."
"From now on, when it's just low-tier undead, try not to waste magic."
They traded theories back and forth, and the tension that had been hanging over them began to ease.
If the enemy was relying on low-tier undead to drain them, then it likely meant the other side was not as terrifying as they had feared.
"Keep moving. We need to find the Elder Lich behind this as soon as possible."
They pressed on.
Along the way, they ran into several more waves of skeleton undead, which only strengthened their conviction.
After turning a corner, a corridor came into view.
It was a stone passage with no moss or mildew. There was no stench of rot in the air. Instead, a faint, clean fragrance lingered.
The corridor ran straight into the depths, and the floor even showed signs of having been swept.
[Magic Detection] swept through again, still finding no traps.
"Hey, look. There's a banner here."
On the wall, they spotted an unexpectedly large banner.
It was entirely black, with an unfamiliar crest embroidered at the center in gold thread, solemn and imposing.
The retired Black Scripture members examined it. Coming from the Theocracy, they were well-informed, yet none of them recognized it.
Logically, if the owner of this tomb had truly been a noble, or even a king, then the Theocracy's records should have mentioned it.
But they had no memory of it whatsoever, which was deeply odd.
"Could this ruin be from an even older era?"
"If the Theocracy has no record of it… could it really be connected to the Eight Greed Kings?"
They moved beneath the banner and reached out to touch it. It felt icy to the fingertips.
"We should take it back to the Theocracy. Maybe we can learn something from it."
Someone made the suggestion and reached up with both hands, trying to pull the banner off the wall.
"Hm."
"It's fixed in tight. I'll just cut it down."
He tugged harder, startled that even with hero-class strength he could not budge a single banner.
So he drew a small knife. If it would not come off, then he would simply cut it free.
But just as he was about to do it, he shuddered.
A bone-deep chill surged through him, and he instinctively let go. The knife clattered to the ground.
Before anyone in the Black Scripture group could react, a voice came from not far away, drawing all of their attention.
"You've got some guts. Trying to tear down that banner? If you want to die, you don't have to go that far."
The voice carried a note of admiration, tinged with faint unease.
Under the Black Scripture's watchful eyes, a slightly unkempt man stepped out.
He had short, messy blue hair. His blood-red pupils swept across the group. Beneath his pale skin, well-defined muscles were visible, and faint crimson patterns could be seen flickering across his chest.
Brain Unglaus.
He was the human whom Shalltear had forcibly turned into a Vampire, the one who had provided hundreds of hearts to Herohero. Afterward, Herohero had casually tossed him into Nazarick, and Momonga later assigned him to the First Floor. His current role was Shalltear's pet and servant.
"You are… Brain Unglaus?"
While the rest of the Black Scripture stood on full alert, Quaecaisse, their captain, suddenly spoke.
He studied the man carefully, his tone uncertain.
The Theocracy had always kept track of exceptionally gifted humans. As a swordsmanship prodigy, Brain had once been among those under observation.
They had even considered recruiting him. But after his disappearance, the matter had quietly ended.
They had assumed he was dead.
Yet not only was he alive, he was standing here.
"Your skin… and your eyes… You're… a Vampire!"
All of their previous assumptions were wrong. Quaecaisse felt the mystery of this tomb growing deeper by the second.
Why was Brain here?
Why had he changed from a human into a Vampire?
If someone here could create Vampires, then perhaps this tomb held not only an Elder Lich, but also a high-tier Vampire.
"Tell me, Brain. What exactly happened to you?"
Quaecaisse's expression had never been so grave.
The rest of the Black Scripture sensed it as well. This tomb was far more complicated than they had imagined.
"What happened…? I just ran into two beings so powerful that resisting them was impossible."
At the memory, Brain unconsciously touched his chest.
He could feel it. Cold. Still. His heart no longer beat.
Brain Unglaus
Level: 46
Race: Vampire
Classes: Swordsman, Blood Warrior
As for abandoning his humanity and becoming an immortal Vampire, Brain did not feel much anguish.
After all, at the time, he had no ability to resist.
If resistance meant nothing, then acceptance was the only option.
Even if his current status was low.
Even if he was surrounded by monsters.
Even if his master was a Vampire with utterly incomprehensible tastes who constantly kept him on edge…
Forget it. The more he thought about it, the more depressing it became.
"So? Are you going to make a move?"
Brain ended his recollection and looked at the Black Scripture.
As he spoke, his sharp fangs flashed faintly, causing the Black Scripture members to tense.
"Then I'll test you, you monster who abandoned your humanity!"
The Black Scripture exchanged glances. One of them stepped forward, gripping his weapon tightly before charging straight at Brain.
The others watched closely, intending to gauge his current strength through this clash.
"Too weak."
Brain did not move from where he stood. He simply let out a soft sigh.
He did not even draw his sword.
Instead, he casually threw a punch.
That single, seemingly effortless punch made everyone realize just how serious the situation was.
Before the charging warrior could react, a sharp pain exploded in his chest.
He was sent flying backward.
Fortunately, Quaecaisse reacted in time, reaching out to catch him before he hit the ground.
"A hero-class powerhouse?"
"Too bad you're too old… and too fragile."
Brain glanced at the blood on his fist and brought it to his nose. The scent of decay within it made him pause.
Once, a hero-class opponent had seemed untouchable. Now, he found them this brittle. He could not help but feel a twinge of irony.
"What?!"
"Damn it! Move, attack together!"
With disciplined resolve, the Black Scripture quickly steadied themselves.
The magic casters who had prepared in advance immediately took formation, launching several fourth-tier spells in succession.
As the spells closed in, the necklace around Brain's neck flashed, forming a transparent barrier.
The powerful magic struck him head-on.
It did nothing.
Necklace: [Crimson Reaper]
This was an item Herohero had given him. After all, Brain had provided hundreds of hearts, allowing them to grasp [Martial Arts]. This was his reward.
The effect was straightforward. It granted immunity to magic below the sixth tier.
Functionally, it was identical to Shalltear's passive skill [Greater Magic Immunity].
Brain lifted the blade in his hand and charged.
The sharp edge cut cleanly through the magical barriers as though they were paper.
The weapon had been forged by Cocytus. After studying exclusive items from this world, he had crafted it as an experimental byproduct.
To Cocytus, it was a failure.
To Brain, it was a blade that cut through steel like mud.
"Your opponent is me!"
Quaecaisse stepped forward without hesitation, drawing his weapon and meeting Brain's attack head-on.
Their blades collided with a deafening clang.
"You're strong. To reach this level with a human body…"
Brain's tone held genuine surprise. His opponent was stronger than he had expected.
"Don't speak like that, Brain. You were human once too!"
Quaecaisse
Level: 49
Evaluation: Former captain of the Black Scripture. His bloodline shows slight atavism. Having surpassed the hero realm, his strength has stepped into the realm beyond humanity.
"Human…"
"Too bad… I'm not one anymore."
Brain wavered for a brief instant.
Then his gaze hardened.
With a self-mocking smile, he suddenly increased the force of his strike.
A tremendous shock traveled through the blades. Even Quaecaisse was forced back. In a direct contest of strength, he was clearly at a disadvantage.
"Captain!"
The retired Black Scripture members regrouped at once, their expressions grim.
"I'm fine. As expected of a Vampire. They have a natural advantage in physical strength."
Quaecaisse steadied himself and shook his head, signaling that he was uninjured.
He looked at Brain, about to speak, but Brain raised a hand to stop him.
"That's enough. I should be going. That lord is waiting for you."
"If you're not afraid of dying, then follow."
After leaving those words behind, Brain's body dissolved into a cloud of crimson mist and vanished at the end of the corridor.
The Black Scripture members exchanged uneasy glances.
"What do we do? Do we follow?"
"If he calls someone 'that lord,' their strength might rival a Demon God."
"Was he warning us to leave?"
They hesitated.
This tomb was far more dangerous than they had imagined.
And Brain's final words did seem like a warning.
"No. We destroy this tomb today."
"If things turn critical, I will immediately summon the highest-tier Seraph."
Quaecaisse cut off their doubts, his voice firm.
For reasons even they could not quite explain, the Black Scripture ultimately accepted his decision.
Without another word, they rushed toward the direction where Brain had disappeared.