Kyra folds her arms. "So we could open it?"

"In theory, yes." Verrin glances back at her, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "But one mistake and the formation could seal permanently—or worse, reset the entire chamber. I'd rather not risk guessing which symbols to touch."

"Alright," Bragg says, rubbing his jaw. "So we've got 'fiery death' on the left, and 'puzzle that might kill us' in the middle. Great start."

Kyra nods toward the last door. "Then check the right one."

Verrin spends several long minutes tracing the patterns along door, eyes half-closed in concentration. Threads of gold mana flicker from his fingertips, crawling over the metallic surface like veins of light—then sputter and vanish, snuffed out as if swallowed.

Kyra leans on her blade, voice tight with impatience. "Any progress?"

He exhales slowly through his nose. "Not yet."

Verrin's brow tightens as his mana flickers once more, this time thinner, dimmer. He kneels in front of the rightmost door, his hand hovering just inches from the wood-like surface. The door seems to pulse faintly, like something sleeping beneath it draws breath.

"Come on…" Verrin mutters under his breath, tracing a faint sigil in the air. Golden light forms, shimmering briefly before being swallowed whole. Again.

Mave shifts uneasily behind him. "You've been at that for a while. You sure it's not just—"

"Quiet," Verrin snaps softly, his focus never breaking. The golden light flickers again—then dies completely. Not a spark remains. He tries a different method: a sensory pulse, a faint vibration through the air, a spark of mana thread—but every attempt ends the same way. The moment his energy brushes the surface of the rightmost door, it vanishes.

Bragg leans on the wall, unimpressed. "So? What's the deal with this one? Dead too?"

Verrin exhales, sitting back on his heels. Sweat beads faintly on his temple, unusual for him. "No… not dead." His voice drops lower. "It's worse. It's blank."

Kyra frowns. "Blank?"

He nods slowly, eyes fixed on the door. "Every door has some kind of signature. Even if it's sealed, I should at least feel resistance, structure—something. But this?" He gestures at the wood-like surface. "It's like trying to touch air. Nothing reacts. My mana goes in and just… disappears."

Toren crosses his arms. "So either it's broken—"

"Or too strong," Verrin finishes grimly. He stands and dusts off his hands. "If it's the latter, it's on a level far above my reach. I can't open this. I can't even see how it's meant to be opened."

A faint silence follows. The group exchanges glances.

Alix, standing a few steps behind, watches the door quietly. His gaze lingers longer than the rest, studying the faint shimmer along the edges—the way the air around it hums in perfect stillness. His fingers brush the inside of his cloak, feeling the cold edge of a small, rune-carved token hidden in his pocket: The Universal Lockbreaker. One of the best item in Alix's possession, capable of bypassing any formation below divine rank.

He tilts his head slightly, his voice even. "Let me try."

The others turn toward him.

Kyra raises a brow. "You? you are also a formation expert?"

Alix gives a calm half-shrug. "I've had to deal with a few ancient locks before. Maybe I'll get lucky."

Bragg smirks. "If luck's all it takes, then sure. Be my guest."

Verrin steps aside, still skeptical. "I won't stop you, but if it reacts, back away immediately. That thing eats mana—I don't want to find out what it does to people."

Alix nods once and steps forward. The air seems to grow heavier the closer he gets. The faint breathing-like pulse of the door slows, almost sensing him.

He lifts his hand, pretending to trace the door's surface thoughtfully. "The weave's strange," he says, keeping his tone casual. "No flow, no anchor points…"

His other hand subtly slips into his cloak pocket. The token's cool surface hums faintly against his skin, invisible to the others. He presses it lightly against his palm, channeling a thread of his mana into it. The rune awakens, a single spark of golden light flashing through the cracks of his fingers—then vanishing instantly.

A quiet click echoes through the chamber.

Verrin's head snaps up. "What was that?"

"Hmm," Alix hums, keeping his expression neutral. "I think I found it."

A deep, groaning sound fills the air as the wooden door stirs. Dust rains from the ceiling, and faint lines of ancient runes flare alive across its surface—patterns even Verrin hadn't seen before. The door's heartbeat-like pulse steadies, glowing faintly with crimson and gold veins.

Kyra's eyes narrow. "You actually… opened it?"

Bragg's grin returns, wide and disbelieving. "No way... Alix do you want to join my group?"

Alix glances over his shoulder, his expression unreadable beneath the dim glow of his light orb. "I prefer being alone," he says simply.

Bragg blinks, then lets out a short laugh. "Cold, but fair."

The ancient runes blaze one last time before dimming to a dull glow. Then, with a slow, thunderous groan, the rightmost door splits open, releasing a wave of cool, dry air thick with dust and the faint metallic tang of age.

They all raise their lights higher as the darkness beyond recedes—revealing a sight that freezes them in place.

The chamber beyond stretches wide and high, its ceiling lost in shadow. Piles of treasure glimmer faintly under the pale glow of Alix's orb. Jagged clusters of mana stones jut out from the walls like frozen stars—each one pure, dense, and radiant with color. Tier 3, Tier 4… and even a few Tier 5 stones sparkle like captured lightning.

Bragg's jaw drops. "You have got to be kidding me…"

Kyra takes a slow step forward, her eyes reflecting the shimmering light. "That's… that's a fortune."

"No," Verrin murmurs, awe creeping into his usually steady voice. "That's a kingdom's ransom." He crouches beside one of the clusters, his hand trembling slightly as he hovers over a palm-sized mana crystal. "These aren't refined. They're natural-grade. Untouched. I've never seen mana density like this before."

Bragg's booming laugh fills the chamber, echoing off the stone walls. "Hahaha! We actually found it! We actually found something real!"

Mave darts between two stone piles, wide-eyed. "Look at these!" He pulls out a weapon—a long, curved blade etched with glowing silver veins. The air hums faintly around it. "Tier 5 at least. Still holding power after gods-know-how-long."

Kyra moves closer to the far end of the chamber, where a stand of weapons lies arranged like trophies. Her gaze sharpens as she points. "Those three—"

Everyone turns to see them: three weapons, resting atop a black pedestal. Each one radiates with power so dense it distorts the air. A halberd with a serrated blade that hums with thunder. A longsword as white as bone, its edge razor-thin. And a heavy gauntlet that pulses with a dull red glow, veins of magma-light crawling under its surface.

Verrin stares, whispering under his breath, "Tier… 6. All three of them."

Bragg's grin widens until it almost splits his face. "Three Tier 6 weapons… we're rich. We're done! We could retire for life!"

Mave laughs nervously. "If we live long enough to carry all this out."

Bragg wipes his hands on his trousers, eyes alight. "The reason this door's so bad is because whoever found it before couldn't open it. They probably smashed their way in. If a door's hard to open, you can bet there's something worth guarding inside."

Kyra snorts, amusement and warning both in her tone. "Wow, Bragg—last time you used your brain it dented your skull. Miracles do happen."

Bragg beams like he earned a compliment. "Shut up and enjoy the miracle, Kyra. Since it's Alix who opened it, he gets to pick two weapons or items first. After that we split everything evenly." He leans forward, suddenly brisk and businesslike. "Fair and square."

Alix expectations they will be greed. He isn't part of Bragg's crew, and treasure has a way of bringing out sharp edges. Still, the offer is generous and immediate. He lets a small, almost embarrassed smile slide across his face. He lets the others see the reaction he wants them to.

"Two picks," Mave says, already rubbing his hands together. "I like the sound of that."

For a moment the chamber is all gleam and breathing stone. Alix lets himself act excited, he reaches for the longsword first—thin, white as bone, its edge humming faintly. The metal feels cool and heavy.