Chapter 220: Mark

"A set of hive-like heretical patterns, possibly on walls, overhead, on the ground, or in any dug-out hollow or sewer—anywhere those rat-like blasphemers could burrow in. I need you to find it."

Before the archway entrance half-buried underground, Green clarified the search objective one last time, ensuring the intent was conveyed.

"At least two together, just like entering a sewer. Remember the return route; if you can't recall it, make marks or pull a rope. I don't want to waste time looking for people who get lost."

More than ten people were gathered here, carrying lanterns, torches, and their respective weapons.

Regarding the order to drill into the tomb to find a heretical pattern of unknown location, they raised no objections, engaged in no superfluous conversation, simply accepted the command, and one by one walked into the spiraling downward passage, leaving two to guard the entrance.

The largest blasphemer present cast envious glances, watching Green's men disappear into the spiraling downward stairs, recalling his own sect's thin numbers. In terms of discipline alone, this group of Church Inquisition personnel was even better than the elite investigation team assembled in Westminster.

"Will this really work?"

"As long as your deduction is correct, there is no need to worry. We haven't done this kind of work for the first time." Green held a lantern, had another hanging at his waist, and handed two torches to Brother Wading to carry. "It's only a matter of time, but it will take some time, and I won't just stand around watching while my men work."

"I thought it was crowded enough down here." Although he said this, Kraft was already taking off the inconvenient robe and lighting the flame.

"The Lord says laziness is a sin; those who indulge in comfort cannot ascend to Heaven." Green moved first, stepping into the tomb's shadows.

Indeed, having more people handle affairs was more convenient than having fewer. Leaving aside efficiency issues, the atmosphere itself had improved greatly.

The moving flames and footsteps filled the tomb passage, squeezing the chill of the space into the corners, curling up in the gaps between skeletons, so that when sidestepping past someone ahead, one would even feel a bit of stuffy heat.

The Church's monks skillfully used weapon counterweights to tap on anything that seemed improper, including the holy symbol stone slab embedded at the end of the stairs.

After entering the tomb converted from a quarry, they scattered in all directions, bringing lanterns close to niches, rummaging through remains showing signs of human movement, illuminating the four walls of every stone chamber, and peering through gaps to check behind the bone walls.

"Father Green, come look over here!"

Not long after, the calling voice, turning several times, led Green and Kraft into a stone chamber.

A monk inserted his sword into a wall built of long bones, the blade sinking to the hilt. He did not rush to proceed to the next action but looked at the priest inquiringly.

"Dismantle it." Green nodded.

As the long sword was withdrawn, a gap appeared in the intact stacked masonry. The Inquisition's professionals smoothly enlarged it, retreating just before the collapse to dodge the scattering bones.

A narrow door was revealed, yet Green showed a hint of disappointment the moment he saw it.

"No, this doesn't look possible." He probed inside the door with his lantern, illuminating the cramped space where one could hardly stand upright, then bent and crawled in. Kraft curiously peered from outside, seeing only a stone sarcophagus placed in the center.

Green pushed open the coffin lid, covered his face to avoid the rising dust, briefly inspected it, quickly reset it, and crawled out. "I knew it; just an ordinary tomb chamber."

"Some valuable funerary items, so they were hidden better. Just adding trouble for us. Keep searching."

The search progress was not ideal; the deeper they went, the more they discovered that this repurposed quarry had not been well-planned, like an inverted tree growing randomly underground, with branches and stone chambers of various sizes splitting from the main artery. If the stone quality was poor, they would seek another direction or dig downward.

The passages were sometimes narrow, sometimes wide; cutting lines bent at abrupt corners into various uncomfortable angles; the indentations left by removing stone would, during visual fatigue intervals, produce a strange optical illusion of reversal.

The stone niches gradually expanded, filled with an astonishing number of bones of indeterminate depth. A monk tried the same trick again, probing behind with the sword blade to detect a hollow cavity, but after dismantling the surface layer, he found it was an inner layer containing fragile, tiny bones; once the constraint was lost, they poured into the passage like quicksand and gravel, submerging the ankles.

This made the identification work difficult; those ancient bones obscured the true nature of the tunnels, appearing endlessly in the field of vision.

The voices of companions grew increasingly vague and unclear in the open underground maze; occasionally another seemingly hidden space was discovered, only to be immediately proven meaningless. One could only vaguely perceive the team gradually moving forward and downward, or perhaps having long lost their sense of direction in a series of bends.

Green noticed the accumulating mental fatigue, gathered the team in a stone chamber for a temporary rest, required that marks be made for anything below, and took out the prepared coil of rope.

When they separated again, a monk who had walked far tied a knot with thin rope on a still-rather-sturdy femur, holding the rope coil as he sidled into a narrow passage expanding from the side. Meanwhile, Kraft and Green continued to investigate along what was probably the main path.

Perhaps they were the first people to descend this far since the formation of this graveyard, Kraft thought; in fact, he could barely distinguish the differences between the passages anymore; perhaps only by crashing into a dead end would he realize he had wandered into an overly deep branch.

Conversation began to decrease; he could notice Green's breathing becoming deep and long, the rhythm typical when space is so narrow it creates a sense of oppression.

In reality, they could still walk normally, yet they still felt as though the long bones woven into the passage walls were mucous membranes, pushing food chyme through like intestines as the width changed.

"Stop, Green, stop!" Kraft shouted; fatigue made his voice sound as if emitted in water, spreading heavily for several seconds before being heard clearly.

"What's wrong?"

"I heard a sound."

Green calmed his breathing, perked up his ears to listen to the sound Kraft mentioned, which had struggled to reach their position through rock cracks and several passage turns; it seemed to be a monk's call.

"Besides, you should rest a bit more; we'd better maintain a good state of mind throughout."

Several people followed the sound back, finding the two monks panting heavily; they were standing in half a stone chamber, and seeing Green arrive, pointed breathlessly at the other half, which was under construction.

At first glance, it looked like an extension of a rock crack, slanting open the wall; the craftsmen had abandoned this stone chamber during excavation due to structural instability.

But on the opposite side of the dark chasm, a closer look clearly revealed regular bricks stacked in blocks, showing distinct artificial traces, with a damp, decaying, dark aura leaking out.

"We also found this." The monk picked up a piece from a shattered, bone-mixed pile of funerary items on the ground and handed it over.

It seemed to be part of a small pottery jar, though upon closer inspection it was slightly newer; Green brought it to his nose for a light sniff, then handed it to Kraft with a puzzled look, gesturing for him to take a look.

His fingertip rubbed against the residue of some thick and viscous liquid on one side; Kraft almost threw it away, but before that, his memory matched the identity of this object when it was intact.

【Honey】

A smashed honey jar.