"Lie inside, living person."
The voice from the void commanded.
"If you fear death, you will be trapped here forever." Its threat seemed imposing, but it didn’t create any psychological pressure on Ian.
"I won’t be stuck here at all."
Ian walked up to the coffin.
He leaned over and took a look.
"This test of yours is a bit shoddy." He reached out and knocked on the wall of the coffin, a dull echo sounded, the coffin was still hollow, not the kind of solid coffin.
Not even any runes or decorations.
"Not even a soft cushion, poor rating." Ian couldn’t help but complain a little, from the heart, he disliked sleeping on hard beds, but nevertheless, he turned over and lay inside.
"Crack, crack, crack!~"
Just as Ian entered the coffin, the entire coffin immediately reacted, amidst a series of noises, the lid slowly closed, darkness swallowed everything.
Ian could see nothing in his vision.
Absolute silence.
Absolute darkness.
Ian’s senses seemed to be slightly enhanced by the coffin, he could feel his heartbeat gradually slowing down, blood flow decreasing, breathing becoming weak.
This was not an illusion.
But a real experience—he was "dying."
"Pretending to be supernatural." Ian’s super intelligence had always been useful, he knew that overcoming death wasn’t succumbing to it, so he suddenly raised his hand and punched the coffin lid!
Boom!
Accompanied by a violent explosion, the golden coffin that made Ian feel death shattered, Ian sat up and found himself standing beside a pitch-black river. The surface of the river glimmered with a ghostly blue phosphorescence, and on the other side lay endless darkness. A shabby wooden boat was moored by the shore, and a tall figure stood at its bow.
A shabby wooden boat moored by the shore, its bow occupied by a tall figure—Anubis. The jackal-headed god held an oar, his golden eyes glacially watching Ian.
Anubis’s figure was even taller than imagined, over three meters in height, with pitch-black skin flowing with golden divine patterns. The jackal head was vivid, golden pupils flickering with Netherworld fire, sharp fangs faintly visible. He wore a cloak woven from mummy cloth, a judgment scale hung at his waist, each finger adorned with bone rings inset with scarabs.
The most striking was the Nether River Oar in his hand—entirely black and shiny, its shaft covered with ancient pictographic spells, exuding an unsettling aura of death. Just by observing it, Ian felt as though his soul was being drawn into it. This was precisely what the Female Titan Claire needed Ian to find.
Whether it was related to reviving souls was unknown. As Ian examined Anubis, Anubis also scrutinized Ian, yet he wasn’t angered by Ian’s irreverence.
The Legendary Wizard had the qualification for a fair conversation with the Divine Spirit.
"Living person, why have you come?"
He asked Ian. Apparently, the ancient Egyptian gods were quite different from Zeus and the other Greek gods, the ancient Egyptian gods showed no astonishment upon seeing Ian.
Anubis didn’t even refer to Ian as Raven, nor did his pupils reflect Ian’s Raven Form, perhaps the native gods here had no connection with Ravens.
"I would like to borrow the oar, yes, the one in your hand." Ian grinned, unceremoniously, once again repeating his purpose.
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