Her brows lifted slightly. “Looks like Tutankhamun really didn’t like Amun at all. To think he’d place an image of the sun god kneeling inside his own tomb.”

Dawn studied the flow of magical energy carefully, then pointed to one side and said, “There’s a secret chamber behind that slab. It’s connected to this statue somehow—but this time, I don’t know how to open it.”

The last time, the Sphinx had appeared only because Dawn noticed a structure in the magic circuit similar to the one at the entrance to Diagon Alley and tapped it with his wand.

Fatima gave Dawn a sidelong glance.

She had only been guessing before, but now she was certain—the boy definitely had some special ability to quickly identify hidden chambers.

How enviable! Every tomb raider dreamed of possessing such a gift.

As she wondered whether there was something she could trade for that ability, Fatima stared at the statue of Amun and began to think quickly.

“I’ve got it!”

A moment later, her eyes lit up. She raised both hands and summoned her magic, transforming the head of Amun’s statue into that of a ram.

Amir looked left and right, then asked helplessly, “Uh… what principle is that supposed to follow?”

Fatima sighed, glancing at her rather hopeless junior from the same Wagadu School of Magic.

“In mythology,” she explained, “Amun was originally the hidden god. The first time he revealed his true form to his son, he wrapped himself in the skin and head of a ram.”

“His son thought he had seen his father’s true face, and he told everyone the secret.”

“So, all we need to do is wrap the statue in the head of a ram, and the Hidden God will reveal all his secrets.”

Rumble!

As soon as Fatima’s chant ended, a section of the wall behind the statue cracked open, revealing a tall passage.

In an instant, a warm golden light poured through, washing over their faces like sunlight and tinting everything before them in dazzling gold.

“Money—money! Gold! Oh gods, so much gold!”

Amir stood frozen, eyes wide in disbelief as he looked at the scene before him. He couldn’t help but cry out.

For a poor boy whose greatest dream had been to buy a wand, the “mountain of gold” piled before him was almost too much to bear. His eyes shone brighter than the sun itself.

The entire secret chamber was made of gold!

Golden floors, golden ceilings, golden tables and chairs—and golden statues depicting kneeling worshippers.

“Calm down! Aren’t you afraid of curses?”

Fatima grabbed Amir, who was panting and ready to charge forward, and snapped coldly.

Her warning snapped Amir out of his daze.

Dawn, watching from the side, couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret. He had been planning to let Amir walk in first to test for traps.

Looking closer at the chamber, Dawn realized it was depicting an ancient Egyptian ritual scene.

At the far end stood a massive golden disk—a sun, its surface covered in raised hands—suspended on the wall.

Beneath the sun disk was a golden offering table, upon which rested a wide vessel overflowing with gleaming gemstones.

To either side of the table knelt a dozen golden statues, clad in robes woven of fine gold threads, each holding a different ritual object.

All of these figures were the very same gods they had seen painted on the walls earlier.

Even Dawn, who had seen plenty, couldn’t help but draw a deep breath.

Now he understood why, despite knowing the dangers of a pharaoh’s tomb, so many people risked their lives to enter.

A single room like this could rival the fortune of several generations of a pure-blood family.

But Fatima’s eyes grew increasingly wary as she took in the glittering sight.

“My past experience tells me that in an Egyptian tomb, any place that yields great treasures also carries great curses.”

Dawn shrugged. “Well, either way, the only path forward is through there.”

He pointed toward the wall beneath the sun disk.

Fatima clicked her tongue in annoyance. She’d rather have found an empty chamber than one filled with so much temptation.

“Where’s your cat?”

Dawn turned to her with a suggestion. “Since we don’t know what we’re dealing with, why not send it in first?”

Fatima frowned but didn’t argue. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny feline head.

“What a pity,” she muttered. “I was hoping to save my little darling for dealing with mummies.”

She set the black cat on the ground and patted its back. “All right, Amber, in you go.”

The cat licked its paw, glanced back at its master, and strolled into the chamber with its tail raised high.

All four of them watched intently.

Ten minutes later, Amber had leapt and prowled across nearly every inch of the chamber. Finally, she sprang onto the offering table and lay down lazily.

Harris, watching the cat groom itself calmly, asked cautiously, “Seems safe enough?”

Dawn stayed silent, standing motionless by the entrance.

Amir, however, could barely contain himself, his eyes flickering greedily toward the gold.

Fatima gave him a glance but said nothing more. They barely knew each other, and one warning had already fulfilled her duty as a fellow alumnus.

“Well, since it looks fine, let’s go in. It’s not like we have any other way forward anyway.”

Muttering to himself, Amir stepped cautiously into the chamber.

After waiting a few seconds and seeing no reaction, he let out a cheer and rushed toward the nearest golden statue.

When he found he couldn’t move it, he ran to the offering table and began shoveling handfuls of gemstones into his pockets.

The black cat, annoyed by the commotion, let out a displeased meow, jumped off the table, and padded out of the room to Fatima’s side.

“How is it?” Harris asked, glancing down.

Fatima turned the cat over and examined it carefully before nodding hesitantly. “Seems… fine, I think.”

She spoke cautiously, then took a tentative step inside.

Harris followed.

Dawn sighed helplessly and stepped in as well—after all, as he had said, there was nowhere else to go.

The brilliance of the gold was blinding. Even Dawn felt the pull of greed for a moment, but he quickly forced it back down.

He did need money—but he’d rather rob someone than take anything from this cursed tomb.

Fatima ignored the riches around her and went straight to the sun disk, trying to figure out how to proceed.

Just then, as Dawn was examining one of the golden robes on a statue, a sudden thud made him snap to attention.

He spun around to see Harris clutching his chest, face ashen, collapsing to his knees.

“Hey! Mr. Carter, what’s wrong?”

Dawn frowned and called out, but didn’t move closer. In a place like this, one couldn’t afford carelessness.

The commotion drew everyone’s attention.

Fatima turned from the sun disk and hurried over. Amir froze in place, still holding a gemstone.

“Ah—!”

Harris screamed, clutching his chest even tighter. His face drained of all color, and sweat poured from his forehead.

“Something—inside me—something’s moving!” he groaned through clenched teeth.

The next second, Dawn saw a bulge appear beneath Harris’s skin, writhing upward along his arm.

“No way…”

Fatima’s eyes went wide in sudden realization. Without hesitation, she drew a small knife from her belt, grabbed the swollen patch of skin, and slashed it open.

Blood spattered.

From the wound, a black beetle burst forth, hissing and clicking its jagged jaws as it lunged at them.

“A death scarab! It hatched already—how could it be so fast?!”

Fatima cried out in shock, momentarily frozen.

Dawn cast a flame spell, burning the beetle to ash before it could reach her. “Stay alert! Don’t lose focus!”

They needed this woman if they hoped to escape Tutankhamun’s tomb alive.

Fatima took a deep breath, nodding. She was about to thank him, but when she looked down at the charred remains of the insect, her face went pale again.

“A mature one—impossible! Death scarabs need at least a month to grow from larvae to adults!”

Dawn’s eyes narrowed. “Everyone out! Get out of the chamber, now!”

He didn’t know what exactly was happening, but it was obvious—the moment they entered, everything started going wrong.

Amir didn’t hesitate. Clutching his filled pockets, he turned and bolted out.

Fatima followed right behind him.

Soon, only Harris remained inside—screaming in agony, clawing at his skin, rolling violently on the golden floor.

His cries grew sharper and more desperate.

Amir trembled, sweat dripping down his forehead as he asked, “What’s happening to him? What’s wrong with Mr. Carter?”

“I… don’t know.”

Fatima stared at the man writhing on the ground, then inhaled deeply. After a pause, she said heavily, “But one thing’s certain—Harris can’t be saved.”

“Can’t be saved? What do you mean, can’t be saved?”

Amir’s voice trembled as he looked between them in panic.

Fatima pressed her lips together and glanced at the scorched beetle on the floor.

“If it were just a few death scarab larvae, we might have been able to remove them with surgery.”

“But the one that came out of Harris was fully matured! I don’t know why or how… but that means before they hatched, the larvae inside him already started laying eggs again.”

Her voice turned grim.

Dawn’s expression hardened. He understood perfectly—those things would keep breeding inside Harris, over and over, hatching and maturing endlessly.

Harris’s screams rose higher, his nails tearing at his own skin as his body rippled like boiling water, the flesh beneath his skin writhing as if alive.

___________

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