The Villain Who Invests in a Witch to Survive

Chapter 175: Allen Again

Only then did Rex seem to realize something was wrong. He hurriedly let go. “Ah, sorry, sorry! I got a little too excited. It’s just that it’s such a relief to finally run into people who came in with us!”

Vincent tucked his hand behind his back and shook it out where no one could see. It was already starting to swell, and the knuckles had gone red.

Lillian walked past him with nothing more than a slight nod.

Not far away, Vera sat watching the whole scene.

She covered her mouth and let out a soft laugh.

The sound was so faint that only she herself could hear it. But when she smiled, those gray-green eyes curved slightly, as if she had just seen something amusing.

Ryan walked closer to the group and stopped. His gaze swept over their faces.

Then he spotted someone else.

In a corner, leaning against a stone pillar, sat a blue-haired young man.

His clothes were practical, the sort suited for movement, but now they were filthy with dust. There was grime in his hair and a few dark smudges on his face as well. The right sleeve had been torn badly at the shoulder, exposing the wounded arm beneath. The cut was not deep, but the blood had already dried into a dark red scab.

Allen Harris.

He sat there with his neck drawn in, just like the other ordinary explorers, doing his best to make himself invisible.

But his eyes were bright.

The moment he saw Ryan, those light brown eyes lit up.

Ryan headed toward him.

Allen pushed himself up with the help of the stone pillar and came over as well. The two of them met near the center of the hall, about ten paces from the others.

“What happened?” Ryan asked in a low voice. “You all look—”

“I ought to be asking you what happened!”

Allen slapped him on the shoulder. His expression was hard to describe. It was like a man reuniting with long-lost family in a sea of strangers, or someone abandoned on a desert island for three months suddenly spotting a passing ship.

His eyes were shining. Even the dust on his face could not hide how excited he was. It was a reunion between countrymen, and tears were practically written all over his face.

Then he hurriedly glanced back, making sure Parker’s group was not watching them, before leaning in and lowering his voice even further.

“How did the three of you make it down here in one piece like this?”

Ryan paused. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t run into anything on the way down?” Allen stared at him. “In the tunnel, after entering through that opening?”

Run into anything?

Ryan thought back on the path they had taken. Stone steps. Carvings. Fresh air. Nothing else.

“We didn’t run into much,” he said.

Allen’s eyes widened.

“How is that possible?” His voice dropped even lower. “I’d barely gone a few steps before I hit traps. There were those stone slabs on the floor that shot fire the moment you stepped on them. They nearly burned off my eyebrows. And there were hidden panels that flipped open, with green liquid underneath. It looked horribly corrosive. I saw the corpse of some kind of animal fall in, and it dissolved in seconds.”

As he spoke, he gestured wildly, his expression animated enough to make it sound like he was telling a ghost story.

Ryan listened, his brows drawing together.

“And them?” He jerked his chin toward Parker’s side of the hall.

Allen shrank his neck a little and lowered his voice again.

“Parker and Hayden were among the first to come down. From what I heard, their tunnel was full of skeletons. Skeletons in leather armor, the kind that wouldn’t die. You cut off a head, and they still moved. You cut off their legs, and they’d still crawl after you. The only way to stop them was to tear them completely apart and snap every last bone. And those skeletons were wearing leather armor too, so blades would just slide off. They couldn’t even break the defense. The two of them had to hack their way through until their swords rolled at the edge before they got out.”

Ryan’s eyes shifted to Parker’s blunted sword.

“And Vincent and Gray,” Allen continued, “didn’t have as many monsters, but their path was worse. The tunnel kept getting narrower, darker and darker, until in the end it was so tight they could only squeeze through sideways. And there were fire-element serpents hiding in the cracks, the kind that spat flames. Gray’s leg got bitten by one, and Vincent’s hand got burned too.”

“And that Lady Vera—” Allen tilted his chin toward Vera. “I don’t know what she ran into, but her tunnel definitely wasn’t easy either. Just look at her leg. That wound’s nasty.”

Ryan’s gaze fell on Vera’s calf. The cloth around it was already soaked through and still dripping.

“As for Eleanor, don’t even get me started,” Allen said with a click of his tongue. “Her tunnel was supposedly packed with monsters. All kinds of them. Endless. She carved her way out by force, just killing her way all the way to this door. You should’ve seen it. When she came through, there were still monsters chasing her. If the people in this room hadn’t helped, she would’ve been dragged right back in.”

Ryan fell silent.

He stood there, looking at those people, at the wounds on their bodies, at the miserable state they were in, at the chipped, nicked, bloodstained weapons in their hands.

“Brother,” Allen said, leaning in again and lowering his voice, “how exactly did you three get down here? Even if the three of you are strong, there’s no way you came through without taking real damage, right?”

Ryan glanced at him.

“There were some traps,” he said. “But there were three of us. We covered for each other, so it didn’t turn into this.”

He said it naturally, with no expression at all.

Allen looked at him for a moment, then nodded. “I see. Well, that’s good. Sigh... at this point, I’m counting on you.”

He glanced back at the others, then lowered his voice again.

“You know that big door over there?”

He nodded toward the gigantic door at the front of the hall.

Ryan followed his gaze.

The door was more than ten meters high and several meters wide. Black stone, covered in carvings. A dark red light pulsed through the seam, throbbing like a heartbeat.

“We all thought the way down here was the second level,” Allen said. “Turns out that whole damn thing was only the approach. The real trial is behind that door.”

He pointed at it.

“Once you go through it, that’s the real maze. And every time, two people have to go in together. Either both of them die inside, or both of them clear it. Only then can the next pair enter. Those two from the Second Prince’s faction—” He hunched his shoulders again and dropped his voice even lower.

“They forced two groups in already. From the first group, only one man came back alive. He said it was pitch black inside, full of monsters, and impossible to find the way. The second group all died.”

Ryan’s brows furrowed.

“The third group has gone in now,” Allen said. “The path on the right. They still haven’t come back.”

He lifted his chin and pointed above the door.

Ryan looked up.

Set into either side of the door were two enormous gemstones.

Each was the size of an adult’s fist, fixed flush against the frame, one on the left and one on the right.

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