Their rest break last for over an hour, as Blackthorne chose to craft new enchantments. There was a sack of small bladed weapons and cracked spears that they kept, not as synergy fodder or precious loot, but as throwing weapons.

Sonja could chuck a knife handily, and Branwen proved to be similarly skilled with the ability to throw spears. Those skills were put to good use on the third floor.

Between the two of them, most zombies did not even get close to them before they were destroyed. At least, that was how things worked until the enchantments ran out.

On the third floor, ghosts would occasionally pop up to cause problems, but they were not numerous. The catacombs of the third floor proved to be larger and more expansive than the second floor.

“Oh?” asked Blackthorne in surprise. One of the zombies had been wearing a leather sack on his hip. Inside the sack he found a small locked box.

“Chest!” exclaimed Sonja with excitement. Branwen leaned close, her eyes bright. She too clearly understood what was going on.

“Is it? What, like a treasure chest?” asked Blackthorne.

“Yes, but is it locked?” asked Sonja.

“I think so. It won’t open,” he said with a shrug.

“Yeah, that’s a good sign. We’ll need to find someone who can open locks, or has a spell to do so,” she said. “Chests rarely show up when you fight such low-level monsters, but there are so many of them that I’m not surprised that one appeared here.”

“This is a good thing? I mean, if this were a game from home it would mean treasure, but it could just be a dead rat or something considering the place we’re in,” said Blackthorne.

“Oh, chests always have something good,” she said. “I doubt it will be anything too wondrous given where we found It, but it will probably contain loot more valuable that all of the junk we have gathered so far.”

“Now that does sound worth holding onto it,” he replied. Originally, he intended to keep it anyway since there was a chance that it might have something inside. Given how Sonja reacted, those chance seemed pretty high.

Branwen’s thoughts reached him. “Lord? What class is the treasure?”

“Class?” asked Blackthorne. He held the box up for her to see. “What do you mean?”

“Do you not have the ability to sense treasure?” she asked him in her thoughts.

“Yes, but I don’t see anything special about this box,” he said.

“Ah. You would probably know if it were otherwise,” she thought to him. “It is probably a common treasure chest. Those are still good, but it is doubtful that anything extraordinary is inside.”

He nodded to her then noticed that Sonja had crossed her arms over her chest. Eyebrow quirked; she tapped her foot on the ground in obvious annoyance.

“Branwen wanted to know what class the chest was, but it’s probably common,” he told her.

“Ah. Yes. I wouldn’t doubt that since we got it here,” she replied.

Excitement over the chest waning, the quarter went back to work. Wispy pulled the zombies and ghosts while the trio fought them in places where they held the advantage. None of the explorers knew exactly how long they were down there before they managed to clear the area. No other chests appeared before them, but they did find a spinel. It joined their small sack of precious stones and metals earned from the mine.

Gemstones were apparently a rare drop in the area. Death essence shards were not an uncommon find, either. Unfortunately, it did not seem that he could coax any souls into dropping. It became obvious to him during that time that he would only receive those if he sent the dead into the abyss using dark judgment.

After another round of rest and preparation they descended further down and entered the fourth floor. “I see. Another wide-open area,” said Blackthorne.

There were no guardian zombies standing in formation, but the entire area seemed to be covered in endless mist. Dark twisting shadows joined with the eerie music to create a dreadful atmosphere that the catacombs lacked.

“This place could have a trap like the first floor,” said Sonja.

“That’s what I was thinking. We may need to call it a day. I don’t want to risk being pushed back like that time when I don’t have the ability to cast dark judgment,” he said.

Branwen asked him something. He relayed the question to Sonja.

“No. I think there are supposed to be six or seven floors. This is probably the halfway point,” she replied.

“Could just be an area to break up the monotony of the catacombs or the start of a different part of the tomb,” said Blackthorne. “Still, it’s stupid to push on when we could use the rest.”

They backtracked to the surface then returned to the third floor with pickaxes. Blackthorne struck at the walls then grinned. A large chunk of material broke loose with every strike.

“That’s good to know,” he said. “If the lower floors work out like that, we’ll be able to walk right into the underground.”

A few minutes passed while they discussed the situation, and then they returned to the surface. Camp was set up several miles from the tomb, so that they could have a campfire and rest without the risk of being disturbed by people. The onions were larger and fiercer in the area, but they were of little consequence.

Sonja caught Blackthorne brooding, not that such a thing was uncommon, and offered him a jerin for his thoughts. His smile was the smile of a man who held a deeply seeded need for rest. However, he did answer her. “I was just thinking about the underground caverns.”

“The ones where you went into your dragon sleep?” she asked. He could have been speaking of the catacombs, after all.

“Yeah, the place we’re going.” Blackthorne rubbed his chin for a moment. “Everything lines up.”

“What do you mean? What lines up?” asked Sonja.

She sat down next to him then placed one arm atop her knees. Branwen glanced at them out of the corner of her eye but would not have said anything even if she could. There was a shimmer in her eyes, however. Her thoughts remained her own, because Blackthorne did not focus on her inner monologue.

“There is too much coincidence in all of this,” he said. “There’s a tomb with a scroll that mentions a secret path to power. Nearby there is an underground cave system that just also happens to have zombies.”

He glanced toward Sonja. “Do you recall what the scroll said about what was needed for that ritual?”

“There were several things, yes,” she agreed.

“Well, one of them was the unbreakable shell of an ancient devourer,” he said.

“Ancient devourer, right,” She tasted his words on her lips for a moment then drew in a breath. “That creature that you spoke of. Girtabu?”

“Girtablilu, yes.” Blackthorne nodded to her. “This all seems like one great big campaign that I screwed up by jumping to the end.”

“I see,” she said. “You think that all of these places are connected?”

“Yes. There was probably a cave-in or something that blocked off the entrance,” he said. “Hell, the one I caused might have blocked in the entrance to the temple where I found that thing. There might have been a path to it from the underground before that happened.”

“That does seem possible.” Sonja waved her hand in the air a bit. “Get the scroll from the first floor. Go down to the bottom of the tomb, if that deep, and find a way into the caves.”

“The caves would be massive and cover a lot of ground in the region, but if you are thorough you eventually find the temple and fight that overgrown land-lobster,” agreed Blackthorne.

“Makes sense. It would be a good starting point for such a quest,” she said. “Weed out those who are too lazy to search diligently.”

He nodded his head. A lot of pieces to the puzzle had fallen into place. The business with his ring and race change was made all too easy because the goddess of darkness decided to grant her blessing without the need of that ritual. He was certain that he knew the reason for that at last, as Shara’s voice was quite unmistakable.