Reaching the Treasury

"Really?" Darnell replied with a mix of excitement and shock, but he quickly composed himself, regaining his usual calm demeanor before continuing, "What do we do now?"

"Heh." Sollivan smirked, his tone dripping with disdain. "Simple. We jump in."

Darnell furrowed his brows and asked indignantly, "Are you mocking me? Or have you run out of the knowledge you've been flaunting? Listen carefully, if you don't have an effective solution, I'm leaving, and you can face your enemies alone."

"Hah." Sollivan sighed with obvious disappointment. "The more I argue with you, the more I doubt you were ever a true Golden Commander. Your knowledge is so limited. Didn't you understand what I meant?"

Darnell's anger flared at Sollivan's skeptical words. He puffed out his chest arrogantly and said, "Then enlighten me with your wisdom."

"Fine, it's very simple. Do you know how old this treasury is?" Sollivan asked suddenly, but he didn't wait for an answer before continuing.

"Clearly, it's over two thousand years old. Do you think an illusion formation could maintain its effectiveness for that long? So, stop worrying and just go in. You were once a Golden Commander at the peak of the late Path-Opening realm, just a step away from the peak layer. Are you telling me your mental strength and willpower can be easily shattered by an ancient formation that's barely holding itself together?"

Darnell raised his brows in understanding, and his scowl lessened, but he wasn't entirely convinced by Sollivan's words. "Still, what you're saying is just a theory. Even if it's true, I'd need several minutes to break free from the illusion's effects. And clearly, there are people who've already entered before us. What's stopping them from stabbing me to death before I can break free?"

"Coward." Sollivan coughed.

"What did you say?" Darnell growled angrily.

"Ah, nothing." Sollivan flashed a gentle smile, then turned to Devlin, who was lost in thought, and calmly ordered, "Stay here and keep watch. Don't go in, is that clear?"

"You crippled bastard, are you ignoring me?" Darnell's frustration grew.

But Sollivan paid him no mind and waited until Devlin nodded in understanding. Then he turned and looked at Darnell with sharp, hate-filled eyes, brimming with a vague killing intent. His demeanor suddenly changed, and even his aura radiated violent hatred. Yet, despite his unspoken ferocity, he smiled gently and said calmly, "Don't worry. As long as I'm here, no harm will come to you. And besides, I'll be going in with you, so you don't have to fear a stab in the back."

Raindrops slid down Darnell's forehead, mingling with a cold drop of sweat. He froze in place, choking back the angry words he wanted to say. He didn't understand, couldn't comprehend how or why. He felt the cold grip of death around his neck.

He was certain that the man before him was weak, a cripple who couldn't even take a step forward on his own. Yet, he couldn't treat him as such. He suspected that if he continued arguing, he might lose his life at any moment. 'Why can't I confront him? Who is he? Does he see my past as a Golden Commander as a joke?'

His mind was flooded with questions, and with a shiver, he glanced around the empty surroundings. 'No one. There's no one else here but us.'

Thoughts raced through his mind before he regained his composure and replied, "Fine, I'll follow your orders. But if anything goes wrong, I'm blaming you."

"Alright," Sollivan replied calmly. His dark aura and hatred faded. He truly hated the situation and was tired of the constant doubts. For a moment, he had been overwhelmed with the urge to kill Darnell, even nearly ordering Noctis to attack.

'I shouldn't have done that. I would've ruined everything.' He scolded himself.

After an awkward minute of silence, he tightened the barrel of thunder powder securely before slowly guiding his chair into the massive pit. The path down was muddy, causing the wheels to slip, but thanks to his experience, he quickly adjusted and maintained his balance. Before the thick fog swallowed him, he spoke without turning back.

"Enough hesitation. Let's go."

Darnell glanced at the bewildered Devlin and scolded him, "Pull yourself together. If you see anything suspicious, try to warn us. And also, I advise you to stay alert. The smell of corpses might attract more predators." With that, he quickly walked into the fog.

…

Inside the cold, damp cave, Sollivan's path disappeared, leaving only an unyielding fog. But he wasn't afraid or hesitant. Calmly, he stimulated his blood to its limits, trying to communicate with the book and activate it in some way.

As he guided his chair through the whiteness, his path suddenly darkened, and before him appeared a human corpse. The corpse was that of a beautiful woman in her thirties, with golden-brown hair and elegant noble attire. Bright red blood seeped from the lower part of her body, staining the ground beneath Sollivan's chair and dirtying its wheels.

Sollivan stared at the woman's body with a lost expression, his body trembling with fear and dread. In a hoarse, childlike voice, he said with deep sorrow, "Mother?" Deep down, he knew what he was seeing was an illusion, but he couldn't stop his overwhelming emotions from surfacing.

Slowly, he raised his head and looked at a masked man standing beside his mother's corpse. The man held a short sword dripping with blood, which glowed faintly in the darkness. The man's features and body were hidden behind dark black clothing and a mask, revealing only cold, pitiless golden eyes.

Sollivan trembled in fear and involuntarily lowered his head before anger took over and he raised it again. His dark eyes met the golden ones, and he felt his heart pounding madly, as if it might explode at any moment. Blood trickled from his nose, and he clenched his fists so tightly that his palms bled. He tried to break free from the illusion, but his mental strength wasn't enough.

The golden eyes watched his struggle with arrogance and disdain, and beneath the dark mask, Sollivan sensed a sinister, mocking smile. His eyes filled with blood, and he wanted to push his chair forward and attack, desperate to wipe away that smile. But with great difficulty, he calmed himself.

"Don't rush. This is just an illusion, just an illusion. The emotions I'm feeling aren't real." Illusion arrays had the ability to stir emotions, so even if someone knew what they were seeing wasn't real, they couldn't stop their feelings from surfacing. Thus, illusions often showed a person's worst memories, deepest fears, or even their happiest ambitions, offering a sense of accomplishment. If someone became lost in the illusion, they would lose their sense of self and die from the thirst and hunger that afflicted their body.

Sollivan reviewed all his theoretical knowledge of arrays, reminding himself of the dire consequences of being lost in an illusion. Because of this, he maintained a sliver of clarity and avoided any reckless actions. But the illusion didn't stop. Suddenly, a father appeared from the side and attacked the masked man. But before they clashed, Sollivan felt a violent tremor within his body. The silent black book suddenly moved, sending out a wave of hidden energy that freed him.

Crack!

The scene before him shattered, and his vision returned to normal. The white fog around him thinned, and his path became slightly clearer.

Cough!!

"Huff." Sollivan exhaled heavily and coughed up a bit of blue blood before raising his sleeve to wipe it away and hide it. His exhausted body relaxed, and he broke into a cold sweat. After regaining some composure, he sighed. "I don't want to experience that again. Huff, I wonder how much time has passed?"

Without waiting long, Noctis, hidden in his shadow, answered.

"Half an hour, you say?" Sollivan's eyes widened in shock. Only a minute had passed in the illusion, but a long time had passed in the real world. 'Damn, if it weren't for the book, I would've been stuck for at least a few hours.'

He thanked his luck and felt his connection with the silent book. But suddenly, he heard a familiar sound that made him heighten his alertness.

"Why did you kill them? They didn't do anything. I'm the one who's wrong. Execute me, why my family?"

He turned his head in astonishment and looked at Darnell standing behind him, listening to his words in confusion. "I'm not a traitor. Why don't you believe me? I just followed orders."

Sigh!

Sollivan glanced at his companion before clearing his mind and regaining his composure. He ordered Noctis to appear, and before transferring his vision, he summoned the book and retrieved a sword he had stored earlier from its inner space.

Then, he handed the sword to Noctis and transferred his senses to it. He looked at the fog around him with red vision, and as expected, he could see his surroundings more clearly. Noctis hadn't fallen into the illusion because it wasn't a human or even an ordinary monster.

Some natural concepts didn't apply to it. It didn't possess great intelligence, and although it had memories and the ability to communicate, these were limited. Compared to humans, its intelligence didn't exceed that of a small child just beginning to understand its surroundings. More precisely, its responses depended on an interactive pattern with Sollivan, and it rarely thought for itself.

Calmly, he walked through the tunnel, and as expected, after a few meters, he saw some corpses on the ground. The further he went, the more corpses he encountered. He even saw a few enemy soldiers standing motionless, still trapped in the illusion. After briefly checking them, he confirmed they weren't very strong. "They killed all our empire's forces and left their weaker comrades behind." He gave orders to Noctis, and coldly, he plunged the sword into one soldier's head, killing him without hesitation.

The dead soldier fell to the ground with a loud thud, but his companions didn't move. And so, he killed them all before continuing. After covering a considerable distance and killing about twenty people, he found himself at a massive stone gate covered in carvings. The heavy gate was slightly ajar, revealing part of the inner hall.

Sollivan's eyes widened when he saw the glint of gold inside the gate, but he didn't enter immediately. Slowly, he peeked inside.

The interior was a vast hall, at least a hundred and seventy feet wide and about three hundred feet long. Its height wasn't towering, perhaps no more than thirty-three feet.

The spacious hall was filled with stone pillars supporting the ceiling. Near the entrance was a large pile of gold and silver coins and bars, scattered haphazardly and covering the ground. The rest of the hall was also filled with several piles of gold, along with hundreds of finely crafted weapons and hundreds of books placed on ancient shelves. There were also hundreds of sealed chests everywhere. At the far end of the hall was a slightly raised platform with a massive stone coffin.

Clash!!

Screams!!

Sollivan didn't inspect the hall much because his focus was drawn to a group of people fighting savagely, destroying everything around them. Without any prior knowledge, he recognized the enemy commander by his attire and noticed he was fighting a sworn ally of his empire. Around them, dozens of soldiers were battling. But their empire's forces were few, with only sixteen people, while the enemy had over fifty soldiers.

Yet, their forces maintained momentum due to their strength. Most of the fifteen were at the peak of the early Path-Opening realm, while their enemies were at varying levels. However, everyone knew the battle would end soon, especially if the sworn ally Sergius was defeated. He was the only Arcane in the mid Path-Opening realm, and clearly, he wasn't a match for Commander Roland Jennings, barely holding his own in the fight.

…

"Die!" Roland roared angrily, swinging his massive sword, making the air around him howl. But Sergius, whose body was covered in several shallow wounds, smoothly dodged the sword before thrusting forward quickly.

Roland didn't dodge the sword because he was slow but because he intended to. He placed his hand in front of him, and the sword pierced his palm smoothly. Then, taking advantage of Sergius's momentary shock, he slashed with his sword. His speed was great, and his strength immense. Sergius, hesitating between letting go of his sword and attacking with his body, reacted too slowly. Thus, the cold blade reached his neck quickly.

Death surrounded him, and he felt the coldness of the blade. Time froze in his eyes as he saw the end approaching slowly. But inexplicably, Roland stumbled, causing his hand to slip and change its trajectory. Because of this, the sword passed by Sergius's neck without hitting him. Seizing the opportunity, Sergius pulled his sword out with all his strength and quickly retreated, fearfully touching his neck.