Trying to smooth over the awkwardness, Ethan shifted his attention past Lily Silverwood to the people gathered behind her. "Are these all Ninth Division folks?"
"Yes. Everyone from the division is here. Well, except those on the Survivor side," Lily replied without hesitation.
The simple question sent a quiet ripple through the group. A few of them exchanged looks, others stiffened slightly. They clearly had not expected him to identify their affiliation so easily.
It was not hard, really. Ethan knew Ery Shaw’s background well enough. Ery was a drifter by nature, a lone operator who only moved with others when it truly mattered, much like Victor had been back in Blackridge before everything went to hell. For soone like that to stick with a group, the bonds had to be solid and long-standing. Then there was their equipnt. Their armor and weapons looked off in subtle ways, not standard issue and not quite fitting any textbook class templates either. They were not all hidden classes, but they were close enough to raise questions. From what Ethan understood about Ethereal, Energy Users and Mutants who logged in had a much higher chance of awakening variant or unique professions, and seeing this many gathered together practically scread organization. There was only one departnt that fit.
Lily’s straightforward introduction had simply confird it.
The only thing that did not quite add up was the presence of the earlier challenger, and the earlier confrontation now made more sense in hindsight. It had felt staged, almost like they wanted Ethan to deal with him personally. No wonder Ery had played dumb at first. The whole act had been sloppy, though. When Ethan arrived, there had been no killing intent directed at him at all. They had known exactly who he was, both in-ga and in the real world. As for that guy himself, he had walked straight into the trap without a hint of caution.
"So what was the deal with that guy?" Ethan asked, genuinely curious.
"An agent of the Angelic Church," Lily said. "The details are classified. Soone will probably reach out to you later. For now, all you need to know is that after the recent restructuring of the Ninth Division, the Church has been getting... bold."
Ethan gave her a sideways look. "Let guess. You cannot tell because I am still just a grunt in M-Squad. Not enough clearance yet?"
Lily and Ery shared another glance. Ery scratched the back of his neck and laughed awkwardly. "Uh, boss... how about we focus on why we are actually here? That idiot led us straight to this tomb. The mont we got inside, he killed the two scouts who brought the original intel. Sneaky bastard. He was supposed to bring his own guild, but then he saw Lily here and decided to show off instead." As he spoke, he subtly guided Ethan toward the massive coffin at the center of the chamber.
Lily shot him a sharp look but continued the explanation. "The scouts he killed were Carnage-side exclusive classes. Nothing special combat-wise, but they belonged to a massive exploration network. They noticed blood-red auroras appearing over this valley more and more frequently, and the undead activity outside has been increasing every day. Sothing changed here. We got the intel, avoided the valley floor entirely, and rappelled down from the cliffs. How did you cross the faction border?"
Ethan nodded as the rest fell into place. "Quest-related," he said simply, then gave a brief explanation of Leo’s task and how they had ended up here.
"Find anything worthwhile before we showed up?" he asked.
"Nothing but junk," Ery replied, sounding faintly disappointed. "If your friend has a quest here, the item is probably inside that coffin."
That earned a few muted sighs from the Ninth Division mbers. Ethereal was full of locations like this, places where only the quest-holder could claim the real reward. Still, no one complained much. Running into Ethan alone made the trip worthwhile.
"So how do we open it?" Lily asked, studying the coffin. "We have checked every inch. No switches, no seams, no visible chanism."
"I... I can open it," Leo spoke up from behind them, his voice tight.
Ery turned imdiately. "Then what are we waiting for?"
Leo hesitated. "I can open it, but there is sothing inside. Sothing big. My debuff is already at eighty-nine percent suppression. If I trigger the coffin, it might push past ninety. It could even hit a hundred."
That finally explained his pale face and labored breathing. A few people glanced at him with new understanding. Ethereal was notorious for bizarre chanics, so they had assud it was just another odd build interaction.
"Alright," Ery said sharply. "Form up. Skyblade says there is a live one in the box. Get ready to turn it into loot."
The response was imdiate. Nearly two hundred elite players moved as one, shield tanks forming the front line while damage dealers and healers slid into position behind them with practiced ease.
Leo looked to Ethan. Ethan t his gaze and gave a firm nod.
Taking a steadying breath, Leo stepped up to the massive stone coffin. He pressed the end of his black-iron staff into a keyhole-like indentation carved into the side of the lid.
Clunk. Clack. Clack.
Ancient chanisms stirred within the stone, heavy and deliberate, as if sothing that had not moved in centuries was waking up. Leo pushed, and the staff slid inward until nearly a third of its length disappeared.
Then, without warning, the staff was violently pulled from his hands. It shot deeper into the coffin until it stuck out evenly from both sides, forming an awkward crossbar before coming to an abrupt stop.
They waited.
Nothing happened.
The coffin remained sealed, silent and unmoving.
"Try twisting it," Ethan said, stepping closer. He grabbed one end of the staff while Leo took the other. They strained together, but it did not move an inch. It felt less like stone and more like it had been welded to the mountain itself.
"I cannot even pull it out now," Leo said, panic creeping into his voice.
Ethan frowned and began circling the coffin, eyes scanning every carved line and groove. The sound had been right. The chanism had engaged. Sothing was missing.
On his third pass, he stopped. "Leo. Your wine cask. Look at this."
He pointed to a shallow depression etched into the coffin’s surface, its intricate pattern worn but unmistakable. It looked eerily similar to the design carved into the base of Leo’s prized Brewmaster cask.
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