"Moen, what do we do next?"

Lea tugged at Moen’s sleeve, shooting a playful yet triumphant glance at Seville as she softly inquired.

Her knight was the best after all—how could he possibly make a mistake?

"Ahem, moving forward, we’ll still need to be cautious."

Moen coughed modestly.

As much as he liked showing off, in the chaos of battles like these, collateral damage could happen at any moment.

From his experience, the more chaotic the situation, the more careful one needed to be.

Trying too hard to stand out would likely end with getting battered and bloodied.

"We should stick to the edges as much as possible and stay inconspicuous. If we get dragged into this mess now, it would be utterly—holy crap!"

His words were cut off in fright.

Moen froze, staring into the darkness where a grotesque face with thick eyebrows and large, staring eyes was fixed directly on him like a statue.

Motionless and unnerving.

As Moen speculated whether this might be yet another gay admirer enchanted by his charm, the face turned slightly, its sinister gaze sweeping past Moen’s shoulder before dramatically twisting.

It was akin to the expression of a parched traveler returning from the desert, spotting someone luxuriously soaking their feet in a spring.

"I know you! You’re that pretty boy, Moen Campbell!"

"Why?! Why is your party full of cute girls while I—an actual alpha male—am stuck with a bunch of smelly guys?"

"And on top of that, you even have a fiancée!"

"Is it just because you’re handsome?!"

A surge of pure envy erupted, translating into one pulsing vein after another bulging on the grotesque face's forehead.

Moen’s body stiffened; his heart skipped a beat.

Because as the booming voice of outrage echoed, the chaotic and noisy surroundings noticeably quieted.

One by one, blazing, jealousy-fueled eyes—which had just incinerated the show-off from earlier in midair—shifted toward him under the ugly man’s rallying cry.

For a moment, Moen felt like he had stirred up a hornet’s nest.

"..."

Wait a minute. Hold on. In this situation, that’s what you’re all focusing on?

Shouldn’t men aspire to seek honor, power, adventure, and treasure? Why does it matter if there are girls in your party?

Does having girls matter?

Do women matter?

Don’t you guys realize that women will only slow down the speed at which you draw your swords?

Unfortunately, the righteous indignation roaring within Moen’s heart could not be shared with anyone.

Instead, his calm demeanor, elegance, and striking good looks only seemed to irritate the onlookers further—especially since the girls in his group were all gazing at him with starry-eyed admiration.

And so, in the mere second he hesitated, over a dozen powerful spells were launched his way.

"Go to hell, you bastard!"

"Oh, crap, seriously?!"

Not even the toughest guy could handle being targeted by so many. There was no way to keep up appearances or remain composed under such circumstances. Moen’s face turned pale as he grabbed Lea’s dainty hand, gave the others a shove, and decisively bolted.

"What are you standing around for? RUN!"

...

...

A few minutes later, after the chaos had moved on like a swarm of locusts migrating deeper into the area, a dim, inconspicuous corner briefly shimmered.

Several battered figures materialized beside the wall, pressing themselves tightly against it.

"I... I think they’re all gone," Moen whispered.

He peeked around cautiously for a moment, and after confirming their safety, finally exhaled deeply.

That had been terrifying.

They had barely made it out, nearly succumbing to a mob's wrath before they'd even gotten started.

If it weren’t for the fact that his advanced Lighting Spell had been honed to levels no one else could match, he might not have escaped in one piece.

Damn those idiots—if they couldn’t handle this much provocation, how would they react if he revealed that he not only had a fiancée, but also a gorgeous girlfriend and a demure, obedient personal maid waiting on him? Wouldn’t they just explode on the spot?

No sense of composure. How could they even call themselves strong?

Luckily, he was magnanimous.

"Moen," Fannie said, clutching several damaged scrolls in her hands. Her voice carried a hint of teasing, though it couldn’t quite mask the pain over the valuable items she’d just used to stay alive.

"I’m starting to feel like teaming up with you might not have been the best idea."

She sighed. But then she recalled that the money she’d spent on the items had been won thanks to betting on Moen, and her mood improved a little.

"At this rate, we’ll all end up being mistaken as one of the girlfriends that you, the notorious playboy, lured into your party."

"Come on, that’s not going to happen," Moen said, shrugging helplessly with a grin. "Those guys wouldn’t really attack us over something so trivial. Everyone here knows random brawls are a waste of time—they just wanted an excuse to ease tensions and a scapegoat for the chaos."

"And besides, a beauty like you becoming someone’s girlfriend? Either way, I’d still..."

"Ow! Ow, ow, ow!" Moen yelped suddenly, grimacing in pain. Looking down, he found that Lea had stealthily pinched his palm with her fingernail.

Unknowingly, he’d held her hand this entire time.

"Mr. Moen," Lea said, her tone uncharacteristically stern as she pouted with puffed-up cheeks.

"You seem awfully proud about having an all-girl party as companions."

"..."

Moen promptly shut his mouth. Experience told him this wasn’t a question to answer—it was a trap no matter what he said.

...

...

After a brief rest, the group resumed their exploration.

Falling behind because of the earlier commotion, they knew they had to pick up the pace. But caution was never abandoned.

Moen took the lead, his Light Spell illuminating their surroundings. Lea trailed close behind, with faint specks of light radiating off her body like fireflies, meticulously scanning their environment.

"Wait," Lea said suddenly, tugging on Moen’s sleeve.

"Is something off?"

"Yes."

Lea pointed toward a spot just up ahead of them.

Everyone stiffened at her words, their nerves instantly on edge.

Despite her sweet and adorable appearance—which often misled others into underestimating her—Lea’s expertise in magical knowledge was unparalleled, a sentiment even Seville begrudgingly acknowledged.

Moen patted Lea’s hand, drew his sword Elizabeth, and cautiously advanced.

Carefully moving to the spot Lea had indicated, Moen glanced back at her. When she nodded, he pulled out a small, black metallic sphere and lightly rolled it across the ground.

Click.

A nearly imperceptible mechanical sound reached his ears.

As the ball rolled, the once ordinary-looking floor revealed faint, glowing magical threads, weaving into intricate, overlapping patterns. They were beautiful in a haunting, spine-chilling way, like layers of tangled vines.

Moen extended his senses briefly, and cold sweat immediately broke out on his forehead.

Who the hell designed such a cruel and devious trap?

Although Moen couldn't cast any magic, after intensively studying magic knowledge during this period, he could roughly tell that the underground seemed to be a complex multi-layered magic array.

While the power and magic infused weren’t particularly devastating, the concealment was masterful and insidious.

Its effects were enough to terrify anyone:

Stun, hallucination, sleep, charm, rage, magic suppression, and even... fabric disintegration.

If anyone triggered this by accident...

Being eliminated would be the least of their worries. The psychological toll would likely scar them for life.

"Can it be disarmed?" Moen looked over his shoulder.

Lea had been closely observing the intricate web of magical threads, calculating something with steady focus.

A radiant smile bloomed on her face as she nodded firmly. "Yes, I can disarm it."

Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Though brute force would have worked, it would’ve been a far more exhausting approach, and there was no telling what other hidden traps might await them.

Moen stepped aside, watching as Lea expertly dismantled the magic. She finally stepped onto the now-safe path and turned back to the group.

"Follow my footsteps precisely," she instructed. Then, with a faint blush spreading across her cheeks, she hesitated briefly before extending her hand to Moen. "Just to be safe... you should go first with me for testing."

"Then I’ll go third!" Seville eagerly chimed in, stepping forward with enthusiasm.

"No!" Lea glared at her. "First, we’ll test it out. Once the path is safe, you just follow in our footprints."

"Then why does it have to be him?" Seville pouted.

"Because Moen can protect me. Can you?" Lea retorted with confidence.

After delivering her rebuttal and clearly flustered by her own boldness, she quickly turned her head.

Moen noticed the blush bloom across her neck like the dusky hues of sunset. Even her delicate ears were tinted pink, soft and alluring.

Absolutely adorable.

"Tch." Seville clicked her tongue in frustration but didn’t press further. When it came to strength, she knew she couldn’t compare to Moen.

Moen naturally clasped Lea’s hand.

Although he’d already held this soft, delicate hand countless times—including during their frantic escape earlier—the cool, supple touch still made his heart race and his throat dry.

He could tell Lea felt the same, her tiny hand slightly trembling while her body stiffened.

Yet, this fleeting, enchanting sensation was one he wanted to savor forever.

If only they weren’t being watched by those knowing stares from behind.

They’d said it was for safety. Why were people still giving them *that* look?

There was nothing going on between him and Lea!

Their relationship was pure—simply that of a knight serving his saintess.

And nothing more.

"Let’s go," Lea murmured, her voice shaky. She tugged Moen gently as they began walking slowly and carefully.

Beneath their feet, the magical threads continued to twist and writhe in a tangled web. The trap hadn't been truly dismantled—Lea had only created a temporary gap in its defenses.

Thus, every step had to be precise and cautious.

Though the passage was less than ten meters long, it felt far more endless and daunting than any of the earlier eerie catacombs.

Until Seville impatiently shouted from the other side, asking if they were done with their little experiment, the two snapped apart their intertwined hands as if they had touched a live wire.

“It’s fine now. Just follow in our footsteps over here.”

“Great.”

Lea discreetly brushed her palms, feeling the lingering warmth that was slowly fading. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Seville cheerfully traversing the trap on the other side.

As expected, this woman was utterly annoying!

Seville suddenly hunched her neck, a chill inexplicably creeping up her spine…

…

Once everyone had safely crossed the traps and was preparing to move forward, Moen noticed that Lea’s gaze remained fixed on the traps. Her small hand propped up her chin as if she were contemplating something.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No… not really. I just had a sudden idea.”

“Idea?”

“Yeah.”

Lea responded and then crouched down, sketching and marking something over the traps.

“What are you doing?”

Moen could only vaguely comprehend that she seemed to be overlaying a new magical array onto the existing traps.

“In simple terms, since these kinds of formations are extremely difficult to disable, the creators, as a safety precaution, typically leave a backdoor—special conditions that allow someone to pass through without triggering them.”

“What I’m doing is making some small adjustments to the backdoor, so that if the creator returns, they’ll end up suffering the consequences.”

“But that’s not all. I’ve also extended the trigger range by a meter forward, so even distances originally thought to be safe will now activate the trap...”

“Oh, and also, I’ve tweaked a few other elements to streamline some conflicting negative effects, making them… even stronger!”

“…”

Watching Lea passionately make modifications to the traps, speaking enthusiastically as if she were showing off an art project, Moen couldn’t help but swallow nervously. Even senior companions like Fannie and Vicky unconsciously did the same.

Seville instinctively took several steps back, beginning to reevaluate whether she had ever offended this seemingly sweet and delicate girl with soft, pinchable cheeks…

In any case, she was oddly terrifying.

…

After navigating several more traps and mechanisms, the group found themselves amidst a long, monotonous journey of exploration.

Perhaps the chosen route was too remote, or maybe their progress had fallen too far behind. They hadn’t encountered another soul for quite some time. They even had to take several breaks along the way to preserve their strength.

Moen fished out a pocket watch, glancing at the time. The day had long since passed the eight-hour mark—it was already deep into the night.

“Well… there aren’t any signs of decay here, and we haven’t encountered any of those monsters.”

Moen casually scooped up a handful of sand and gravel. Dry and ordinary, it showed no signs of abnormality.

“Could it be that the corruption hasn’t yet reached this place? Or perhaps, as the diary suggested, the ‘wall’ truly does block out the corruption?”

“Moen! Moen! Look over here!”

Just as Moen was lost in thought, she heard Lea’s slightly excited voice calling out to her.

Drawn by the girl’s cheerful silhouette, Moen looked towards her direction. In the gradually expanding glow of light, open space suddenly revealed itself.

It seemed they had finally passed through the narrow corridor and arrived in a vast, expansive area.

But their joy was short-lived. In the next moment, as the light spread further, imposing shadows emerged in their line of sight, one after another. The sheer oppressive presence made even someone as seasoned as Moen momentarily lose his breath.

All around them, massive statues stood rigidly in formation, filling the vast space in perfect alignment.

The statues were not humanoid but rather resembled ferocious hunting dogs, ready to strike. Each one towered at over three meters tall, and the finely chiseled musculature on their bodies appeared strikingly lifelike, radiating a sense of explosive power.

Moen couldn’t help but recall the Terracotta Army from the Mausoleum of the First Emperor in Qin Dynasty in his previous life. However, these statues carried an entirely different, far more overwhelming psychological burden. For the first time in a very long while, even Moen felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“These… these couldn’t possibly be some kind of mechanism, could they?”

Seville’s voice trembled as she spoke, her mind jumping to the animated puppets often encountered in ancient relics.

Such mechanical constructs were incredibly difficult to deal with. The terrifying magical technology of the old eras endowed them with formidable power that defied the passage of time. Each one could prove to be a nightmare for explorers.

But here… the sheer number of them was beyond any hope of counting.

Seville could already imagine herself being minced into unrecognizable pieces by these engineered nightmares.