Chapter 991: Tomb Chamber

In the deep, dim tunnel, the damp air was suffused with a scent of decay and antiquity. Han Wuxian sparked a wisp of golden flame at his fingertips, illuminating the stone steps winding downward ahead. Each step bore intricate runes that, under the firelight, glowed with a faint cyan hue.

"Watch the runes on the steps," Yan Xirou whispered, her voice echoing faintly in the cavernous tunnel: "These are ancient seals; a single misstep could trigger a trap."

Han Wuxian nodded, scrutinizing the patterns on the steps. Out of the corner of his eye he couldn't help glancing at the woman beside him; Yan Xirou's profile appeared unusually pallid in the firelight, a few stray strands of hair clinging to her cheek with sweat, the eerie red glow that had shone in her eyes during the fight now gone, yet the sense of unfamiliarity lingered in his mind.

"Blood Path Demon Art..." Han Wuxian muttered inwardly, recalling the blood threads that surged from the earth and the Xuanmen cultivators turned to desiccated corpses, and shivered. The Yan Xirou he knew, though aloof, was far from such a cruel, bloodthirsty person.

Sensing his gaze, Yan Xirou suddenly halted: "If you have questions, ask."

Han Wuxian was taken aback by her blunt response, then gave a wry smile: "I just... didn't expect your technique to be that powerful."

"Afraid?" Yan Xirou turned to face him, her jet‑black eyes bottomless, "Now that you know what kind of monster I am, do you regret coming in with me?"

"No," Han Wuxian shook his head, the golden flame flickering in his palm: "I'm just wondering how many secrets you still hide."

Yan Xirou's mouth twitched upward, revealing an elusive smile: "Much more than you imagine."

In the firelight, the stone walls on either side were covered with snarling demon reliefs, each hollow eye seeming to stare at intruders.

"Watch your step," Yan Xirou whispered, her voice echoing faintly in the sealed tunnel, "Master Huang Song is famed for his trapcraft; in six hundred years, countless tomb raiders have perished here."

Han Wuxian nodded, carefully scanning every inch of the ground. A thin layer of dust covered the stone steps, faintly revealing several blurry footprints—someone had arrived ahead of them.

Suddenly, Yan Xirou reached out and halted him: "Don't move!"

She pointed to the seventh step; Han Wuxian squinted and finally noticed a nearly invisible fine line along the step's edge, spanning the tunnel's full width.

"Trip wire," Yan Xirou said, pulling a silver hairpin from her hair and gently touching the fine line.

Clang!!

The sound of mechanisms snapping rang out, and the walls on both sides suddenly launched dozens of poison‑coated crossbow bolts, raining down and embedding into the opposite stone wall. The eerie blue sheen on the arrowheads indicated their lethal toxicity.

Han Wuxian inhaled sharply: "If this hits..."

"Certain death," Yan Xirou said calmly as she stepped over the trip wire: "Master Huang Song excels at mixing poisons; it's said even a Nascent Soul Cultivator can't withstand them."

The two continued downward, encountering new traps at each stretch: a suddenly collapsing floor revealing a deep pit lined with spikes; an ordinary stone slab that, if stepped on incorrectly, triggered corrosive acid mist from within the wall; even a disguised torch that spewed poisonous smoke.

"How scared is this old fool of tomb robbers?" Han Wuxian wiped sweat from his forehead, recalling how they had just narrowly avoided being sliced in two by a suddenly dropping gate.

Yan Xirou suddenly halted: "There's something ahead."

Han Wuxian followed her gaze; at the tunnel's end lay a spacious stone chamber, a bronze coffin placed at the center of the floor, surrounded by several fresh corpses.

Judging by their attire, they were the cultivators who had previously traveled with them.

"It's Zhou Yun and the others..." Yan Xirou crouched to examine a female corpse: "They've been dead less than an hour."

Han Wuxian looked around warily: "The Xuanmen people haven't arrived yet; it seems the traps claimed their lives."

At that moment, the bronze coffin emitted a muffled thud, and the lid trembled slightly.

The two instantly retreated, assuming combat stances. The coffin lid burst open, and a massive figure slowly sat up—a giant clad in bronze armor, its helmet lacking a face, only a writhing black shadow within.

"Tomb‑guard..." Yan Xirou's complexion shifted abruptly: "Fall back! This thing is impervious to swords and spears!"

The tomb‑guard rose fully, standing nine feet tall, gripping a massive axe mottled with rust yet exuding a sanguine odor. Though it had no eyes, it faced them precisely and let out a roar unlike any human's.

The axe swung horizontally, and Han Wuxian hauled Yan Xirou backward at speed. The blade grazed his garment, cleaving a crack over a foot deep into the stone wall.

"Golden Light Spell!"

Han Wuxian formed a seal with both hands, a golden aura ring materializing before him, hardening against the tomb‑guard's second axe. The metallic clang was deafening; cracks appeared on the aura ring, and Han Wuxian was jolted back several steps, a thin line of fresh blood spilling from his mouth.

Yan Xirou seized the opportunity to circle behind the tomb‑guard; suddenly a pair of jet‑black short blades appeared in her hand, thrusting into the armor's seams. The moment the blades penetrated, a foul, stinky black mist spewed from the guard's body.

"Poison!" Yan Xirou gasped, holding her breath and retreating, but she had already inhaled a bit, and her complexion turned deathly pale.

The tomb‑guard spun, swinging its axe; Yan Xirou barely dodged but was struck on the shoulder by the axe wind, her garment instantly stained with blood. Seeing this, Han Wuxian's golden light flared intensely:

"Beast!"

He bit his finger, drawing a blood sigil on his palm: "Heavenly Gang True Method, Break!"

A blood‑golden beam of light erupted from his palm, striking the tomb‑guard's chest. The bronze armor was blasted open with a large hole, the black mist inside roiling violently. The guard emitted a painful howl, yet its movements never ceased, raising the massive axe again.

Yan Xirou forced herself to endure the toxin, pulling a purple talisman from her waist: "Summon Thunder Talisman, Go!"

The talisman transformed into a violet bolt of lightning that struck the tomb‑guard's head, tearing the black shadow apart. The guard finally staggered back, collapsing to his knees.

Just as the two thought victory was within reach, the tomb‑guard suddenly seized its damaged armor, ripping it open, and inside were dozens of blood‑red centipedes, each as thick as an arm!

"Blood‑marrow centipedes!" Yan Xirou's voice changed tone, "Burn them quickly! Once they enter the body, even a Nascent Soul cannot be saved!"

The centipede swarm surged like a tide; Han Wuxian pressed his palms together, chanting, and golden flames ignited over his body: "Severing Fire, Burn the Heavens!"

The blaze swept the stone chamber, turning most centipedes into ash as they twisted in the fire. Yet a few broke through the wall of flame, one charging straight toward Yan Xirou's face.

Han Wuxian had no time to cast a spell, so he lunged and seized the centipede. The Poison Insect immediately coiled around his arm, its venomous fangs piercing flesh. He let out a muffled grunt, tearing it off, but his entire arm had already turned black swiftly.