“Behold, the tomb of Azul Ragna san’Oblis Xolron.” The black-robed scholar took a deep breath, his eyes caressing the sight of the ancient gate in front of him. Tears almost formed in his eyes. His tiring two decades of research, his many days of wasting away daylight, exploring ancient relics and locations, and collecting and poring over ancient tomes written in an arcane, almost forgotten language—all of it had culminated into this sight before him.

His hair had even turned white from the research. He was entirely sure that, no large part of his thinning white hair, was due to old age. He was still a spry, young man in his early sixties. The research and stress were undeniably the main cause. Yes, he was sure of that. It was certainly not his old age.

Written in the ancient tomes of the Sanguis descendants, the obsidian gate, inlaid onto the ground, was said to lead to the underground tomb of Azul. The gate was said to be magically locked, forever unmarred by the passage of time, and carved upon its midst would be a raven crest.

And sure enough, the obsidian gate had an image of a raven carved onto its midst and was unmarred by dust. It was a sleek and solemn looking raven crest, taking up a large portion of the gate’s surface. The gate, of course, was also recognizable by its large dimensions. Its width was easily over twenty feet, its length a little over thirty feet, and its thickness the length of a stretched palm. All in all, the gate could be labeled as an unnecessarily large platform or a glaringly obvious trapdoor.

“Scholar Johan, this had better not be another one of your false leads,” said Princess Thalia, lacing her sentence with a growl. “Even my patience has limits. And the four months of following you on your wild claims with no fruitful results has tested its very edge.”

Turning away from the sight in front of him, Scholar Johan thumped a fist to his chest toward the princess. “Rest assured, princess. On my old life, my name, two decades of research, and my very dignity, this gate is surely the one described in the ancient texts.” He furrowed his eyebrows pensively. “Do you remember the way to open the gate?”

“Yes. Yes,” the princess replied, rolling her eyes at his long-windedness. “A virgin sacrifice on top of the raven crest of the gate will open the underground passageway.” She formed a frown. “However, I do not like wasting lives, even the lives of slaves. We shall try other methods to open the gate first.”

Scholar Johan furrowed his eyebrows at that. But before he could open his mouth to protest, Princess Thalia raised a hand to shush him. “I know it might be foolish, however…” She left the words unsaid and instead let the silence speak for itself.

Too many lives had been already lost in these four months journey. Three of the four months had been fruitless endeavors that had led nowhere, causing unnecessary casualties. There were far too many false leads claiming to lead to the underground tomb of Azul.

As for the last month, they had spent the time traveling to this gods-forsaken island in the middle of nowhere. Then upon arrival, they had spent another week scouring the island, fighting all sorts of monsters in the expansive island forest before finally arriving at this clearing.

Princess Thalia was hesitant to sacrifice a virgin slave to this ominous gate for another good reason. While sacrificial magic could be used for beneficial outcomes, most sacrificial spells resulted in evil outcomes. The history of sacrificial magic did not lie. Most sacrificial magic had indeed been used for evil and selfish outcomes. All such events had occurred in the name of the means justifying the ends.

And here she was, trying to achieve her goal in the same vein. However, she was desperate. There was an infestation of a nest of wyverns in her kingdom and portents of war looming in the future. She needed, no, required the weapon of power and the elixir that was said to be hidden in the underground tomb.

Inflicted with an incurable magical disease, her father was counting on her for the elixir, though he thought the quest to be foolhardy and likely to be futile. Still, he gave her his blessing. She could not afford to fail, not when chaos would reign over the kingdom should her father fall. At present, only the royal healer and a select few, among which included her deathguards, Jess, mage Kote, and Mahar, knew of the magical disease eating away at her royal father, King Gavin Havenrise.

That said, it was unknown what sacrificing a virgin to the ominous-looking gate would result in. Worst-case scenario, it could result in the destruction of her entire party. Thalia held in her hands the lives of a hundred or so odd men and women, some of whom were innocent adventurers she had hired. In addition, there were her seven personal guards and the four slaves she had brought with her.

The four slaves did not know of their real purpose. They only knew of their roles as simple pack mules and cooks. She had brought more than one virgin slave even though it was said that the gate needed only one virgin sacrifice. It was for contingency purposes.

Spare sacrificial lambs. As cold as the words sounded, she needed to be pragmatic.

To date, thirty-five lives had already been sacrificed in this journey. Thalia could not afford to waste their sacrifice over the lives of four slaves, especially given what was at stake here.

The clearing itself was strange. Nothing grew on top of the clearing. It was entirely barren except for the brownish dirt. The size of the clearing looked to be purposeful, large enough to entertain an army. But despite its size, there was only the obsidian, platform gate inlaid into the middle of all this dirt.

Even stranger, the surrounding trees of the clearing looked to be shirking away from the clearing, as if afraid. Yet, strangest of all, there were no sounds to be heard. All the cries of the various monsters and the occasional chirping of insects and birds had disappeared. The clearing was undoubtedly an isolated space. There was possibly spatial magic at work, but she could sense no magic here which led her to believe the magic to be too subtle to be sensed.

She looked toward her hundred odd followers gathered behind, calling out to the necessary people for the job. “Rogue Mahar, artificer Jess, mage Kote, and scholar Johan, you are all with me. Guard captain Primus, relay my orders to heal up and set up a perimeter.” She bit her lips for a moment. “Also, prepare the slaves just in case.”

“Your will be done, Princess Thalia.” Guard captain Primus jogged over to the entrance of the clearing and quickly relayed her orders to the guards, soldiers, and adventurers.

From the distance, the uninjured soldiers and guards saluted her with their fists onto their hearts and moved to station themselves at the edges of the clearing. As for the ones who were injured, they went to the healers to treat their wounds. The other division of the party, the eighteen remaining adventurers, began to inspect their equipment while the ones who were injured went toward the healers.

As for the four slaves in the distance, out of hearing range, they sat down limply onto the dirt. The only signs of their anxiety were their eyes furtively searching their surroundings. They probably had some suspicions as to their real purpose in the journey, but Thalia had warned her followers not to reveal anything to them.

Like lambs to the slaughter. The thought popped into her mind again before Thalia shook herself out of her reverie.

With the rogue Mahar leading them, the five of them moved toward the gate. Each of the rogue’s steps were light-footed and cautious, his eyes expertly looking for any traps hidden inside the dirt ground.

“Well, fuck me with a unicorn’s horn,” Mahar said with a small grin upon arriving at the massive platform gate, “looks like there aren’t any traps.”

“Mind your crass mouth,” mage Kote reprimanded, though his tone was light and jovial in nature. He was all too familiar with the rogue, having been on many adventures together. With a free hand, Kote stroked his long, five knotted beard reaching close to his waist. The beard was his pride and joy, each knot boasting a different color. The colors had come from magical dyes he had concocted himself. It was a magnificent looking thing of beauty. At least to himself, it was. And of course, to his dwarven friends.

“Right you are, old man. I had forgotten we are with royalty.” Mahar knelt down beside the ancient platform gate, checking for any other traps, magical or physical in nature. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Not that the gate itself was anything ordinary. His instincts likewise did not scream danger at him. “There doesn’t seem to be any traps. No grooves, no breaks. Nothing of that sort.”

“I don’t see anything out of sorts either,” artificer Jess added. She stood on the other side of the gate, inspecting the gate closely. As an expert in magical devices and a formidable mage herself, her words could be trusted.

“I sense no magical traps or any dangerous magic around the gate,” Kote reported. “Give me some time and I will attempt to unlock the gate using some of my spells.”

Princess Thalia calmly nodded at their reports, her right hand playing with the hilt of her sheathed sword. Her eyes on the ominous gate, Thalia silently aimed her quirk ability [Analysis] toward it, saying the word out loud in her mind. A blue screen which only she could see appeared in the air before her.

Name: ???

Type: Non-living

Description: An untrapped, ancient black gate made out of an unknown material. A black raven crest is carved in the middle of its surface. It leads to the underground tomb of Azul Ragna san’Oblis Xolron, an ancestor of the Sanguis. The gate could possibly be opened by the sacrifice of a virgin to the raven crest.

Thalia cursed softly under her breath. Her quirk ability [Analysis], an ability she had been granted from birth by the Esotherial, was limited as it was based purely on her knowledge and whatever basic information the Esotherial deemed to grant her. That said, it was still useful as it could make quick deductions using her knowledge and tell her things she herself would have likely missed or at least taken a longer time to learn.

Her quirk could also be used on living beings, albeit only telling her basic things such as their level, type, race, and name. All of the information, however, had to be within reasonable bounds. It was not an infallible ability in that it could tell her everything. The most important point, however, was the confirmation of her deductions. The [Analysis] ability did not lie.

“Status,” Thalia whispered.

Name: Thalia Havenrise

Type: Living (Mortal)

Race: Human

Level: 40

Age: 23

Health: 94%

Mana: 82%

Title: [Mana User] [Third Princess of Havenrise Kingdom]

Talent: [Air Affinity] [Body Affinity] [Fast Learner] [Fire Affinity] [Memory] [Neutral Affinity] [Water Affinity]

Quirk: [Analysis] [Conviction] [Cool-headed]

Thalia still had plenty of mana to use her quirk ability and her health had not been damaged from using [Analysis] on the ancient gate. Her health was simply at 94% because she still sported a small wound on her left arm from the previous fight with the ape-like monsters of the island.

The description, thankfully, included that the gate was untrapped, meaning she could trust that the gate truly held no traps. She trusted Kote’s expertise, but it was better to have more sources of confirmation.

Kote reported back, humming to himself. “None of my Neutral spells were able to unlock the gate. I have casted the tier one spell Access, the tier two spell Unlock, and the tier three spell Reveal. All three spells simply could not even slightly affect the gate. Perhaps higher tier spells could work, but I highly doubt that.” He lightly coughed in embarrassment. “That, and I do not have the ability to cast higher tier spells of this nature.”

Thalia sighed to herself, turning to her best friend. “Very well. Artificer Jess, do your thing.”

“With pleasure.” Grinning to herself, Jess took out four small, silver metal orbs from the large backpack she always carried. The backpack, a spatial storage carrier, was one her most prized possessions. It was imbued with a spatial enlargement enchantment, expanding the inventory capacity more than thrice over. Carefully, Jess placed each orb on each side of the ancient gate.

“Remind me why we keep her around again?” Thalia questioned to nobody in particular.

Scholar Johan answered promptly. “She is a genius inventor or artificer as she likes to call herself. Furthermore, she is a great mage, despite her penchant for destruction. It also doesn’t hurt that she is your best friend. You even petitioned the king to grant her an official position as the royal artificer.” He paused for a bit before shaking his head. “Although I highly doubt explosives will open the gate, I suppose it couldn’t hurt to try.”

Rolling her eyes at the old scholar answering her rhetorical question, Thalia watched her best friend working to place the explosives. There was a silent tension in the air that was almost palpable. No one knew what to expect of the results.

The silence lasted only a for a short minute before explosions rang out from all four sides of the gate with Jess cackling loudly to herself, repeating the word explosion over and over. Her brown hair tinged with violet streaks were raised high from the impact of the explosions with dust clouds obscuring her figure.

“What a marvelous invention,” Kote commented. He expertly stroked his pride and joy of a beard once more. “So young and already so knowledgeable.”

Mahar snorted. “Old man, I know what you are thinking. But you are more than twice her age and she is an official of the kingdom.”

Princess Thalia coughed at that, glaring at the two adventurers. Silence reigned once more or at least as much quietness as could be allowed amidst the mad cackling of Jess.

Once the dust and fire cloud from the explosion cleared, there were giant craters each side of the gate. The gate itself, however, looked unharmed. There were no signs of scars or even specks of dusts upon it. With such evidence displayed before them, it was beyond any doubt that the material of the gate was close to indestructible and that there was likely an unknown enchantment on it.

“Like I said, Princess Thalia, the gate can only be opened by the sacrifice of a virgin.”

“I can only agree with the scholar, Thalia.” Jess came walking over, wiping her goggles with a cloth she had pulled from her backpack. “I just inspected the craters now and it does not look promising. Even the underground passage seems to be made out of that strange metal. The material probably covers everything. My explosives did not even make a single dent onto the gate. It is probably an antithesis of magic and very durable to everything.”

She put her round goggles back on, of which it was worthy to note that the accessory functioned more as a decorative item—it was part of the appeal of an artificer, she had said. Jess let out a sigh. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to take some of the metal back with me.”

“So be it then.” Thalia called for guard captain Primus to gather everyone.

Once the whole party was gathered, Thalia nodded at her guard captain. Guard captain Primus was her most trustworthy subordinate, and the commander of her six other personal guards. All seven of her personal guards, comprised of four males and three females, were deathguards entrusted to her since birth. All of them were deadly, highly skilled, and loyal only to her and the king. They were all contracted to her and the king through soul contracts. Should any fatal harm befall her or the king, the seven guards would die as well.

The slave, a young girl, and the only female of the four slaves was brought to the front of the gate by guard captain Primus. The slave was young, possibly having only seen sixteen summers at best. She was a homely looking girl with freckles dotted across her nose.

Guard captain Primus had gagged and bound the girl. It was a necessary choice as the slave girl was letting out muffled screams and kicking violently all the way. To her screams, the guard captain paid no heed. His face was impassive and his icy, steel blue eyes reflected it.

Silence. It was a silence broken only by the slave’s muffled screaming as the rest of the party watched her, their thoughts only known to themselves. Some adventurers shook their heads slightly at the sight, possibly having inferred what was about to happen. The companions beside Thalia were unsurprised—they already knew of the possibility of the human sacrifice to the gate.

In the middle of the platform gate, standing on top of raven crest, guard captain Primus reached for the hidden dagger on his thigh. He unsheathed it with a quick fluidity that left no room for doubts toward his expertise with the weapon.

“Wait,” Princess Thalia interrupted. “Let me be the one to do it.”

“Are you sure, your highness. There is no need to dirty your hands,” said Primus softly.

“It is because of my order that her life will be taken. It is only right that I be the one to do this.”

“By your will, princess.”

Taking the offered dagger from the captain, Thalia steeled herself, her face stone cold. She could feel the heavy weight of the steel dagger with its enchantment of sharpness and durability. Thalia removed the cloth gag from the slave girl’s mouth. The slave girl had gone silent knowing that her cries for help and her begging was futile. She had seen enough of the impassiveness of the people around her.

Thalia’s pale gray eyes met the soft brown of the slave girl’s. “We are…no, I am about to sacrifice you to this gate so that we can open it and obtain the weapon and treasures hidden in the tomb.” Her voice was loud and firm with not a single trace of emotion to be found. Her words were for all who were watching, and an explanation of sorts for the slave, for the others, and for herself. It was only right to let the young girl know why she was dying—not that there was any justice to be found in this. “Do you have any last words?”

“Just for weapons and riches?” the slave girl questioned, anger in her eyes. Anger at the princess. Anger at her lowly station. Anger at why she had been the one chosen instead of the other three slaves.

“No, for the greater good of the kingdom.”

“Just be done with it.” The slave girl closed her eyes then, putting up a brave face and waiting for the inevitability. The tears welling from the corner of her eyes belied her bravery, however.

A quick slash to the throat.

Thalia could feel the dagger sink through the skin, flesh, bone, and artery. Below her, the young girl thrashed only for a short moment before her eyes turned lifeless. The pair of soft brown eyes looked startled despite the fact that she knew of her coming inevitability. Despite foreknowledge, death was always startling.

Thalia turned her back to the sight and gave back the dagger to her guard captain. Very quickly, the two of them stepped off the platform gate. Thalia knew the death of the slave girl would haunt her. She could already distinctly feel the startled brown eyes accusing Thalia of her injustice in her nightmares.

Then, as if to add to the accusation, the eyes of the raven crest on the gate began to glow white, quickly absorbing the blood of the young slave girl. Soon, the raven’s eyes changed to a scarlet glow, as if to take on the hue of the girl’s blood. As the pair of eyes glowed brighter and brighter, the body of the young slave girl sank into the crest like quicksand before disappearing in its entirety. Not a single trace of the girl’s existence remained. Not her articles, not the ropes that bound her. Nothing remained of her.

Then, as if to let out its satisfaction at the sacrificial feast, the raven crest rumbled for a few seconds before disappearing. In its place, however, was the entrance to the underground tomb with its carved, stone stairway. The stone stairway was wide enough to give way to three people at once.

“Get ready to move out,” Thalia commanded. “The seriously injured soldiers and a select few will stay here with the three slaves break camp. We do not know how long it will take to conquer this tomb. The rest of you will come along with me,”

Her orders interrupted some of the dazed looks the adventurers were giving her at the abrupt sacrifice of the young slave girl and her corpse’s subsequent disappearance. Some of the faces of the soldiers were likewise dazed, but most of them were solemn. They would not rebel simply because of an unimportant slave girl’s death

Likewise, all of the adventurers here would not rebel against the princess. They were veterans in their professions and had experienced many dark situations. As adventurers, they looked out, first and foremost, for their own self-interests. It was not their place to question the deeds of royalty and the chain of command.

After all, commoners propose, but royalty disposes.

That, and it would be idiotic to destroy their livelihood over an unimportant slave girl’s death. Princess Thalia, who in turn represented Havenrise Kingdom, was their sponsor. She was the one who was paying for the costs of this quest. She was the one who would pay the blood money to the families of the adventurers who had lost their lives through the AA, the Adventurers Association.

“May her soul rest in peace and the light of Luxuria shine upon her,” mage Kote softly prayed.

With her personal guards quickly forming up around her, Thalia climbed down the stone stairways, her steps light, but firm. She ignored the whispers of the adventurers behind her. They did not truly know how much was at stake. They only knew that the treasures in this tomb were the goal of the expedition.

Her best friend, artificer Jess, followed along, quietly stewing in her own thoughts. Jess knew her friend needed comfort, but Thalia was too proud to admit it and she would only clam herself up even more if Jess said anything. She would have to wait patiently for Thalia to open up—if she did.

In the cold comfort of the dimly lit passageway, determination was etched onto the beautiful face of the princess. There was a reason Thalia had not bothered to ask the young slave girl her name. Thalia had long known the names and backgrounds of the four slaves she had brought with her. She had long memorized the names of the adventurers and the soldiers that had died on the journey.

Their deaths and the carving of their names into her memory would be her sin to carry alone. Her only consolation was the fact that only one sacrificial slave had been needed to open the gate. But that was little consolation.