Dawn felt a chill crawl down his spine.

Not long ago, when he’d witnessed the raw power of natural magic during that thunderstorm, a terrifying thought had crossed his mind—

If wizards could use the magic within their own bodies to realize their desires at will, then what kind of unimaginable effects could arise when the omnipresent natural magic itself gathered together?

Ritual spells and transformation magic, though wondrous, never gave such a visceral sense of dread.

But now—Dawn finally felt it.

Without any warning, he had been transported from a residence to a tomb, and at the same time, at least three people’s memories had been altered.

It was as if an entirely new timeline had just branched into existence.

Worse yet, he was beginning to suspect that natural magic itself possessed a will of its own.

Dawn’s expression darkened.

He traced his fingers along the cracks between the stones, unconsciously licking at his canine tooth, and quietly made up his mind.

Whatever the case, he needed to leave Tutankhamun’s tomb immediately and see what had happened to the Carter residence.

Taking a deep breath, Dawn finally turned his attention to the present. “What were you just saying? The thing blocking the passage—what is it?”

“Death scarabs,” Fatima explained calmly. “They’re a kind of magical creature mentioned in ancient Egyptian records. These days, they only appear in a few tombs.”

As she spoke, she pulled a small black cat from her pocket and began feeding it water. “Looks like we hit the jackpot this time.”

Seeing her actions suddenly made Dawn realize how thirsty he was.

He glanced at the bottle of water Fatima had handed him earlier. It was still sealed. After a moment’s hesitation, he took a small sip.

Then he looked at the wand in his hand. “So, why didn’t you let me use magic just now?”

“Because death scarabs are extremely sensitive to changes in magical energy,” Harris said.

“They inject their eggs into living beings with magic in their bodies. When the larvae hatch, they feed on the host’s internal organs as their first meal.”

He shone his flashlight at Dawn’s injured forehead, frowning. “Hey, are you sure you’re alright? You’ve been acting like you’ve forgotten half your memories since earlier.”

Dawn was about to come up with an excuse—

But before he could speak, Fatima said calmly, “Don’t worry. Memory confusion is normal. He triggered a memory-erasing curse just now. Who knows how much he’s forgotten.”

Memory-erasing curse?

Dawn’s eyebrow twitched. He subconsciously rubbed his head.

Perfect. That explained his sudden appearance here better than anything.

The group fell silent again.

After a while, Fatima put the cat back into her pocket and said, “We’ve rested long enough. Let’s move on.”

The others gave weary murmurs of agreement. Dawn, still trying to piece things together, decided not to object and simply followed along.

The four of them crouched low and crawled through the narrow stone passage.

Amir was in front, followed by Dawn, Harris, and then Fatima.

Ten minutes later, Dawn couldn’t take it anymore, “Damn it, Amir, can’t you move any faster? I almost ran into your ass!”

Amir’s trembling voice came from the front. “M-my legs are numb—oh no! Did I trigger a curse?!”

“That’s just because you’ve been crouching too long!” Fatima snapped through gritted teeth. Her face had just bumped into Harris’s backside, and her patience was gone.

“Show some backbone, will you? Don’t embarrass us in front of the Englishmen!”

“How about… we go back and fight the scarabs instead?” Amir mumbled. “Honestly, I think invisible curses are scarier than creatures we can see.”

“Oh, brilliant idea!” Fatima’s tone dripped with sarcasm. “That way, when we die in this pyramid, maybe the pharaoh can resurrect us when he wakes up.”

Dawn couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. It was rare to hear the normally composed Fatima so openly snarky.

“What level of magical creature are death scarabs?” he asked curiously. “Are they that hard to deal with?”

“A single one is ranked Class XX,” Fatima explained. “But in swarms, not even fire dragons can withstand them. In that chamber before, we were lucky to escape alive.”

“What about a Fiendfyre curse?” Dawn asked. A spell that could burn indefinitely would be perfect for dealing with insects in huge numbers.

“Don’t look at me,” Fatima said flatly. “I’m a theologian and archaeologist. I don’t learn spells that destroy relics.”

“Don’t look at me either,” Harris added. “The Carter archives don’t record that kind of dark magic.”

Dawn turned his gaze toward Amir—then just as quickly looked away.

“Hey,” Amir protested, “I might not know it, but you didn’t have to look that disgusted.”

Ignoring him, Dawn ran his hand over the rough stone wall, wondering if he could blast it open.

That would let them move faster—and falling rocks might block the scarabs too.

But as he squinted closer, he noticed intricate runes carved all along the walls, glowing faintly with defensive magic.

He clicked his tongue and gave up.

Come to think of it, when had these runes first appeared? And why were they even in ancient Egyptian tombs?

The group continued onward.

In the endless silence, it was impossible to tell how much time had passed.

When Harris’s flashlight began to dim, they still hadn’t reached the end.

The tight space and suffocating air made everyone irritable. Even Amir, who had been terrified of curses, stood up in frustration.

“Wait!”

After what felt like forever, Dawn suddenly stopped.

He stared at a section of the wall where the runes changed pattern, eyes narrowing as he pressed his fingers to a stone slab at the side.

“There’s a hidden chamber behind this wall,” he said.

“What? A hidden chamber?”

The others crowded close, curious. Anything was better than this monotonous tunnel.

Amir frowned at the seemingly identical stones. “How can you tell?”

Dawn didn’t bother answering. He turned instead to Fatima, who had far more experience in tomb exploration. “What do you think? Should we go in?”

Fatima hesitated, then took a deep breath. “Let’s do it. This passage has gone on too long. I’m starting to think it loops endlessly.”

Hearing that, Dawn didn’t waste another second. He tapped his wand against the center of the stone slab.

Instantly, the magical circuit shifted—

The stone rippled like water, and from its surface, a stone statue emerged: a sphinx.

“A riddle?” Fatima’s lips curled into a confident smile.

The statue’s mouth opened, and in a deep, resonant voice, it spoke:

“Defilers who disturb the sleep of the dead—you have fallen into the King’s punishment! Yet if you possess wisdom beyond measure, the King shall forgive your sins and open the path that escapes the cycle.”

Cycle. So the passage was looping!

Dawn straightened, stretching his sore ankles. For some reason, he understood every word the statue said.

The four of them waited tensely for the sphinx to continue.

But before it could—

A sharp scream split the darkness.

Everyone turned toward the sound.

Harris was clutching his wrist, his face contorted in agony.

A black beetle, as large as a man’s palm, clung to his hand. Its six spindly legs pierced deep into his flesh, and its sharp tail arched up before plunging down again.

“Death scarabs?! Impossible! We ran so far already!” Amir shrieked.

Fatima grabbed the beetle’s back, yanked it free—tearing flesh with it—and crushed it underfoot.

Purple ichor splattered across the stone.

“No… The cycle!” Fatima gasped. “This passage really is looping—we might not have gotten far from where we started at all!”

She snatched up the fallen flashlight and shone it behind them.

At the edge of the beam, countless black beetles were crawling rapidly toward them.

The sound of their jointed legs scraping stone sent shivers down everyone’s spine.

“Damn it,” Fatima hissed. “The magical surge from activating the mechanism must’ve drawn them here!”

She slammed her palm against the wall beside the sphinx. “Hurry! Ask your question!”

The statue gave a raspy laugh, almost mocking them, before finally speaking:

“When the beetle swallows the hourglass I grant, I shall ride upon the back of the two-headed lion and cross twelve pillars of flame. My right eye will pave the golden path for the faithful. Tell me—who am I?”

The sphinx’s stone eyes gleamed.

“Remember,” it added slowly, “you have only one chance to answer.”

It’s the Sun God, Dawn thought instantly.

He wasn’t an expert in Egyptian mythology, but even he recognized the symbolism.

Yet when he saw that Fatima—who knew far more than he did—remained silent, he realized there might be a trick to it. He decided not to answer.

Instead, he gripped his wand tightly, blasting fire at the approaching scarabs while tearing scraps of parchment to transfigure into large stones to block the passage.

But his effort was futile.

The beetles turned translucent, crawling straight through the stones.

“Use fire! They can pass through anything lifeless!” Harris shouted, splashing blue potion onto his wound.

Dawn shot him a glare. “Would’ve been nice if you’d mentioned that earlier!”

“It’s obviously the Sun God!” Amir said frantically, gnawing on his fingernails as the smell of burnt chitin filled the air.

“The scarab symbolizes the sun, the pillars of flame are the hours of the day, and Horus’s right eye represents the sun!”

Fatima shook her head.

“Knowing it’s the Sun God isn’t enough,” she said.

“There are five Sun Gods in Egyptian mythology—Khepri, the morning sun; Ra, the noonday sun; Atum, the evening sun; Amun, the Theban Sun God; and Aten, the Sun God of Akhenaten’s monotheistic reform.”

“We’ve only got one chance. Which one do you think it is?”

Amir froze. “Wait—five of them? Why does one Sun God need five names?”

“Because ancient Egypt was polytheistic,” Fatima snapped. “Every city had its own god.”

Taking a deep breath, she continued, “Since this is Tutankhamun’s tomb, the riddle must relate to him. That narrows it to two—Aten and Amun.”

“One was his father’s sole god, Aten; the other, the god restored by his successors, Amun.”

Amir clapped his hands together suddenly. “Then it has to be Amun! Tutankhamun’s tomb was built by his successors, right? Of course they’d honor their Sun God!”

Fatima let out a cold laugh. “Typical muggle logic.”

___________

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