Monster Evolution System: I became a Rat-Chapter 71: Tomb of Heroes

The Bay of Scrutiny lay before them, wrapped in thundering storms that circled its waters without end. Dark clouds churned overhead, and beneath them, the sea itself seemed to sink inward, forming a vast depression upon the surface.

At its heart was a massive whirlpool.

The ship jolted as it entered the bay, waves battering the hull from all directions, each hit harder than the last. The wind howled through the tattered sails, forcing the masts to bend as if trying to break them in two all over again.

"Hold the ropes!" the Captain shouted.

The crew fought to keep their footing. One sailor was thrown against the rail, another dragged back just before the sea claimed him. Water flooded the deck, freezing to the touch, stealing breath from every man who dared to inhale.

Rosacer clung to the mast, his old body shaking, though whether from fear or cold, none could tell. Fea stood near the bow; her eyes fixed on the looming clouds ahead.

They were already near the spot where the whirlpool could drag them in. Slowly but surely, it did—pulling the ship closer and closer to its center, its pace quickening with every moment.

The sea curved toward the abyss, drawing the ship along its terrible spiral. The roar of the water grew deafening, as if the ocean itself were opening its throat to swallow them whole.

"This is madness," one sailor cried. "We will die before we reach the center!"

Fea raised her hand.

Tentacles emerged from the ship’s surface, slowly working to row the massive vessel away from the raging currents. But the waters were too strong, too wild to be subdued by sheer effort.

She murmured something, but the roar of crashing waves drowned her voice. All they caught was,

"Embrace."

No one knew what she meant, and there was no time to ask.

The ship was already descending.

As they neared the core, the world seemed to twist. The sky changing hues, the wind fell silent, and for a single breath, even the storm paused.

Confusion was etched on the faces of those boarding the ship. Fea frowned as she watched the world freeze before her eyes.

Still shivering from the cold, Rosacer gazed toward the gaping hole ahead, the world seemingly stunned.

Truth be told, he had doubted the parchment and the information it held. He couldn’t confirm its truth himself. But when he bargained in the Captain’s cabin, he learned the parchment was inscribed with a ritual that made its contents true. The discovery brought some relief, yet doubt still lingered in his mind.

Now, the scene unfolding before him was turning that doubt into belief.

His mind slowly adjusted to the scene before him, filled with awe, his mouth hanging open in astonishment.

Then the ship was pulled under.

Darkness swallowed them.

Water rushed over the deck, yet no one drowned. Instead, the sea pressed around them like a veil, cold and heavy, but strangely gentle. The roar faded into a deep, hollow silence.

And then, just as suddenly, the pressure vanished.

The ship burst upward into open air once more.

They found themselves no longer in the bay, nor beneath storming skies, but drifting upon still waters inside a vast cavern of stone. Ancient pillars rose from the dark lake, their surfaces carved with symbols too foreign for any of them to decipher. Dim light filtered from cracks high above, revealing a shoreline of pale rock ahead.

The sunlight shone, blinding the eyes of the crewmen, for the sun was a stranger to them.

Most of them had closed their eyes, and now they were slowly opening them. The first to open his eyes was the Captain.

He stared in disbelief.

"Where... are we?"

Fea lowered her hand.

The tentacles disappeared one by one, slowly retreating until they were fully absorbed back into the ship’s surface.

The ship drifted toward the silent shore.

Behind them, the waters of the whirlpool were gone.

The Captain murmured, "The ancient tomb of the seven heroes..."

The sailors, hearing their captain’s words, slowly opened their eyes to the world. They then turned toward the pillars and stones lying beside the lake.

On the northern shore stood a massive gateway. The waters before it were unnaturally calm, as though this lake had once served as a sacred place of cleansing. A broad stairway descended from the shore, vanishing beneath the surface of the water.

The rest of the shoreline told a different story. Portions had collapsed entirely, while others rose in sheer vertical walls, broken and jagged, as if torn apart by time itself.

Everyone understood this wasn’t a natural lake.

An artificial basin would have better suited its shape and symmetry.

As the ship drifted closer to the northern shore, immense walls came into view. Their surfaces were etched with patterns and murals, each carving telling fragments of a tale long forgotten. Heroes, beasts, wars, and sacrifices were frozen in stone, their meanings lost to the ages.

Those aboard the ship watched in silence.

They hoped.

They hoped the towering structure before them was not another prison like the Mist City. They hoped the massive gateway promised an exit, not another form of captivity.

As they reached the shore, the ship lowered its mast, its movement slowing until it finally came to rest. The Captain did not order a small boat to be sent ahead. Instead, he anchored the ship directly against the stone shore.

His reasoning was simple.

There was no exit beyond the lake. They were still inside the tomb.

The true way out lay beyond the walls that rose before them...

Now that the miracle lies before his eyes.

He roared, "The gateway is in front of us. Let’s go."

Turning toward his crew, he raised his voice once more. "We have made it outside. We are the first to make it."

His words shook as he spoke them. Emotion welled within him, long held back by storms, fear, and uncertainty. Around him, the crewmen stood frozen for a heartbeat, as though afraid the moment might shatter.

Then the deck erupted.

Cheers broke out, rough and unrefined, filled with disbelief and relief. Some laughed, others wiped their eyes, unwilling to be seen doing so.

Fea and Katrina stood among them on the deck, their expressions no different from the rest. When the realization finally settled, they cried out together, voices rising in unison with the others.

"We made it out."

For the first time in a long while, hope did not feel like a lie....

Rosacer stood at the edge of the ship, admiring the murals etched into the walls.

He called the system to help him decipher their meaning, for these murals were far clearer than the ones in the tower. This time, he expected a response.

And a response did come. With a shimmering light, a blue window appeared before his eyes, forming from thin air.

[Once, the Sun God killed his son in anger by accident. Saddened by his loss, he attempted to transfer his son’s soul into another medium. However, finding a vessel suitable to contain a god’s soul proved impossible. No matter how long he searched, he could not find one.

At last, after exhausting all methods, he descended into the human realm to find someone strong enough to withstand the soul of his son. And he did find them, not one, but seven.

The Saint of Astronomy, Albert Alwin.

The Demoness, Bianka Benedikt.

The Soul-Eater Mage, Bertham Anselm.

The Berserker, Edelgard Edgar.

The Dawn God’s Servant, Lopis Lemon.

The Emperor of Rise, Leonard Spencer.

And the Apostle of War, Mikhail Egon.]

"The Dawn God... isn’t that the same god Elizabeth was searching for?" Rosacer thought as he moved toward the other murals.

The system shimmered again.

[Splitting the seven souls, the Sun God’s son was divided among the heroes. Each fragment, held by one hero, granted them the consciousness of the Sun God’s son.

But this very act angered the servants and followers who once worshipped the Sun God. They saw it as a betrayal, for they were not chosen as the bearers of his fate.

Enraged, the leader of Har’Our Mount from the Veer Tribe, Jkoi Maysee, took it upon himself to punish the Sun God. They fought for ages, and destruction spread far beyond the empire because of them.

But at last, the seven heroes prevailed, defeating and sealing the Leader of Har’Our.]

In the mural, a brown-skinned man was being buried inside a sarcophagus. At last, the Mask of the Pharaoh was placed upon the corpse, perhaps as a gesture of respect from his own men, while the seven heroes watched the ritual from outside.

Patting his suit, Rosacer muttered to himself, "So the man I saw when I was transmigrated was sealed by them... and I freed him..."

"Will there be problems...? But he is still stuck inside the dungeon. He has to climb it to get out. It will be a long time before he clears it..."

He sighed as the mural slowly became unreadable, worn away by the passing of years.