Vol3 Chapter 45 Right

After they had fully rested, Amos finally stood.

The others slowly pulled themselves together, their weariness eased just enough to keep going without pushing into exhaustion, though everyone moved with a bit more caution than before. Amos turned his gaze to the three passages. The left had already been explored, while the middle had led to their strangest discovery yet.

Which left only one way left—

The right.

"I think we should try that one," Amos said.

Harold followed his gaze. "The right passage?"

Amos nodded.

"It's the only one we haven't checked."

Daren stretched his arms and looked into the darkness. "Hopefully this one isn't another ridiculously long corridor ending in a wall."

"Or another underground stream," Vena added.

Tessa gave the passage a careful look. "There was something different about it."

Amos glanced at her.

"You noticed it too?"

"Noticed what?"

"The air."

Tessa glanced back at the passage.

Amos had noticed it earlier, just barely—a faint shift in the air drifting out of the darkness.

Not quite a breeze but enough. In a sealed ruin deep underground, any movement of air meant there had to be a place it was coming from.

Or a place it was going.

"If there's airflow," Amos said, "then there should be another opening somewhere."

Harold nodded slowly.

"Which means it might actually lead somewhere."

"That's what I'm hoping."

They braced themselves and stepped into the right passage. Amos led the way, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dimness. At first glance, nothing stood out. The corridor was built from the same ancient stone as the others, its walls worn and cracked, the floor uneven underfoot. Yet, unlike the left passage, this one didn’t feel completely closed in.

Amos could feel it.

That faint movement of air against his face.

He stopped.

The others nearly walked into him.

"What is it?" Harold asked.

"Nothing."

The farther they went, the more noticeable the airflow became.

Daren eventually noticed it as well.

"Hey."

He lifted his head.

"Is that wind?"

"Yes," Amos replied.

Daren's expression immediately brightened.

"Then we're getting somewhere."

"Maybe," Vena said cautiously.

Amos stayed silent, unwilling to let hope creep in. Yet the possibility lingered in his mind, hard to push away. They pressed on, and the passage slowly began to widen—just a little at first, then more. The walls stretched farther apart, and the ceiling lifted higher above their heads.

Amos slowed as the narrow corridor abruptly ended—not in a wall or another passage, but in an expanse of darkness that seemed to open into nothing. He took a cautious step forward, then stopped, eyes widening as the black void revealed itself to be an enormous chamber.

"Whoa..."

Daren's voice echoed through the space.

Harold stepped beside Amos and stared.

The four of them emerged from the corridor one after another, and for several seconds none of them said anything.

The chamber was enormous, so vast that the faint glow of their magic barely touched the far wall. The ceiling vanished into the darkness above, while massive stone pillars rose throughout the space, some still standing and others led across the floor. Scattered around were ancient structures—platforms, crumbling walls, and the remains of what might once have been buildings.

A genuine breeze drifted through the chamber, brushing against Amos’s face. He tilted his head upward, certain that somewhere above, another opening awaited.

"We're definitely not in another dead end," Vena murmured.

Daren laughed quietly.

"Finally."

Tessa lifted her hand, releasing a small sphere of light that floated upward. It rose higher, and higher, and higher, until it was nothing more than a faint speck in the darkness. With a quiet motion, Tessa lowered her hand.

"...I can't even see the ceiling."

Amos stared into the enormous chamber.

Maybe this was it.

Maybe the right passage really would lead them somewhere useful.

Maybe—

His eyes narrowed.

Something caught his attention.

Far across the chamber, barely visible through the darkness, was another faint glow.

"Everyone."

The others looked at him. Amos pointed toward the distant glow.

"There."

Harold squinted.

"...I see it."

Daren leaned forward.

"Could that be another group?"

Amos didn’t reply right away, his gaze locked on the distant light.

***

They headed toward the distant light.

The vast chamber absorbed the sound of their footsteps, each one echoing through the space before disappearing into the darkness, making them feel even smaller than they were. Amos kept his gaze locked on the glow ahead.

As they drew closer, it became clear—it wasn’t another group.

It was a source of light.

A small magical lamp rested on the ground, its faint glow stubbornly lingering despite the ruin’s age.

And beside it—

Bones.

Harold froze.

"...What?"

The others came to a slow stop behind him. Bones were strewn across the ground, the bodies long gone to dust and leaving only skeletons scattered over the cold stone floor. Pieces of armor and gear lay nearby, dented and half-buried under years of dust. For a while, silence hung heavy in the air. Amos stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the bones.

Something inside him seemed to tighten.

A chill crept down his spine.

And then, he felt it.

Sweat.

A bead slowly rolled down the side of his face.

Amos immediately wiped it away before anyone could notice.

He kept his expression neutral.

"It's about four people remains, I think.," Vena whispered.

Tessa cautiously approached the remains, careful not to disturb them.

"They've been here for some time."

Daren crouched beside one of the skeletons and examined the broken equipment.

"Looks like adventurers."

Harold nodded.

"Any idea what happened to them?"

"No obvious signs," Tessa replied. "At least not from here."

Amos finally pushed himself to move, stepping closer. His gaze swept over the scattered gear—a damaged weapon, a torn piece of armor, a pouch, boots, and other small items that had outlasted the people who once carried them. His breathing grew a little shallow, though he couldn’t say why.

No.

Something felt off.

He knew it, deep down.

A thought lingered at the edge of his mind, stubbornly refusing to take shape.

Amos clenched his fist.

Don't.

He couldn’t quite pin down what the thought was aimed at, but whatever it was, he shoved it aside. Harold glanced over at him.

"Eoghan?"

Amos immediately looked up.

"Yeah?"

"You alright?"

"Fine."

The answer came a bit too quickly. Harold watched him for a moment, while Amos offered a calm smile.

"Just wasn't expecting to find this."

Harold accepted the explanation and turned back toward the remains.

Amos looked away.

He didn’t want to look at them anymore. Something felt wrong—really wrong. The worst part was, he had no idea why. Sweat gathered on his palms, and he casually wiped them on his clothes while the others continued examining the scene.

Whatever had caused that feeling—

He wasn't ready to give it a name.

Not yet.