The air was thicker in this chamber, as if weighed down with invisible pressure.
Each of the three forward paths seemed identical, but something unseen lingered in the stone. Spiritual energy pooled faintly, like ripples in a hidden pond.
Fatty Kui groaned. "Great. More choices. I'm telling you, these tomb builders were sadists. Why not leave a big sign saying, 'Treasures this way, death that way'?"
"No one would go to such trouble just to hand out their legacy," Xuan Qing said curtly. "Every wrong path is a test. Every danger is a measure. Whoever this alchemist was, he intended only the most careful... or the luckiest, to reach the end."
That was when Han Yu finally stepped forward. He reached into his robes, and with a small whistle, a shadow darted out.
Chitterfang.
The small rat perched on his shoulder, whiskers twitching, beady eyes shining in the dim light.
