Power Thief's Revenge [BL]-Chapter 155: Barn Crypt

Chapter 155: Barn Crypt
The directions were simple enough. Down the winding road, past a grove of crooked pines, and then left by the old water tower.
They found it soon after: the supposed Mirasol farm.
It wasn’t much to look at. A sagging fence, a squat farmhouse with peeling paint, a weathered barn tilted at the edges like it was tired of standing. No sign of life. No cattle. Not even the sound of birds.
Hermes pulled the van up against the ditch, killed the engine, and frowned. "Well... this is cheery."
Magni leaned forward from the back seat, face pressed against the glass. "Where are the cows? You said the golden man mentioned about his father raising cattle. I wished to pet them."
"There aren’t any," Ymir muttered.
He’d already unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out onto the gravel. His eyes darted to the surrounding land, then narrowed on the empty windows.
"And I don’t like that. Either Paragon is a big fat liar or.... There’s something deeper going on here."
They walked up to the gate. The wood slats were brittle, bleached gray by sun and weather. Hermes put a hand on it.
The whole thing collapsed.
He blinked down at the broken wood. "Well. That’s... not promising."
"You think?" Ymir snapped. His voice was sharp, but his posture screamed unease. "We shouldn’t be here. This is trespassing."
"We’re not trespassing," Hermes said smoothly, already stepping past the wrecked gate. "We’re investigating."
Ymir scowled. "That’s a cute word for it. People catch you snooping in someone’s barn, they won’t care about semantics—"
Before he could finish, there was a hiss. Sparks. And then the sharp
whoosh
of fire.
They both turned.
Magni stood over the remains of the fence, his hands blazing with violet flame. What was left of the wood curled black and charred. He dusted his hands proudly.
"There. The barrier is no more."
Hermes smirked. Ymir closed his eyes and sighed like the universe itself was conspiring against his sanity.
"...Fine. Whatever. Let’s just get this over with."
***
The house wasn’t much better up close.
Hermes stepped onto the porch, boots crunching over layers of dirt. He pressed against the door. It groaned but gave way easily.
Inside, the air was stale. Heavy with dust. White cloths draped over every chair, table, and cabinet. Sunlight leaked weakly through grime-coated windows, casting the room in a sickly glow.
Magni sneezed, waving a hand in front of his face. "This is... abandoned."
"Yeah," Hermes muttered. His sharp eyes traced every detail. The empty mantle. The bare walls.
The lack of family portraits. "It’s not just abandoned recently. Nobody lived here for a while."
"Then why the hell did Raphael say he grew up here?" Ymir asked.
Hermes didn’t answer. His lips pressed tight as they walked through the kitchen, the bedrooms, the halls. Every room told the same story: emptiness.
Not a scrap of memory. Not a single thing that said "Mirasol family."
Finally, Ymir crossed his arms. "Satisfied? There’s nothing here. Let’s go."
Hermes ignored him and turned toward the barn.
The lock was old, iron, and heavy.
Hermes’ eyes glowed faint gold. A quick burst of heat, and the metal shriveled into slag.
The doors creaked open.
The barn smelled of mildew and rot. Dust motes drifted lazily in the shafts of light from broken boards above. Rusted tools leaned against the wall. Cobwebs clung thick to the rafters.
But no animals. No hay. No sign this place was ever used.
Ymir glanced around. "This is pointless. Let’s—"
"Wait," Magni said suddenly.
They both froze.
The Voidling was crouched low to the ground, nose almost pressed to the dirt. He sniffed once. Twice. Then slowly rose, head cocking toward the far corner.
"Something... below," Magni murmured.
Hermes raised a brow. "Below?"
Magni grinned, teeth flashing. "I can smell it. Come."
He strode across the barn. At first it looked like nothing more than stacked crates. But when Magni shoved them aside, the floor underneath groaned hollow. He tapped the boards, then ripped one up with a single clawed hand.
A draft of cool air wafted out.
Beneath was a narrow stairwell of dark stone, leading into shadow.
Ymir’s lips tightened. "...You’ve got to be kidding me."
Hermes stepped closer. The edges of the stairs were rough, carved from cobblestone. Ancient.
"Oh, this just screams ’normal farmhouse,’" Hermes said dryly.
But curiosity burned too hot to ignore. He placed a foot on the first step.
"Hermes," Ymir warned.
"I’ll be quick." Hermes shot him a look over his shoulder. "You’re welcome to stay up here."
Magni was already halfway down before Hermes finished the sentence.
Ymir groaned, cursed under his breath, and followed.
The air grew colder as they descended.
The walls were rough-hewn stone, damp with moss. The narrow stairs opened into a passageway lined with alcoves. And inside those alcoves... bones.
Human bones. Some stacked. Some arranged like grim trophies. Skulls leering from shadows. Ribs yellowed with age.
Hermes slowed, gaze sweeping the walls. "Okay. This is... not what I expected."
Ymir’s voice was low and tense. "Understatement of the year."
Magni, however, seemed fascinated. He traced a finger along a cracked femur. "Your people keep their dead in walls? Strange custom. We prefer to have them dissolve in lava or some other fashion, so that they may become one with the ether."
Hermes glanced at him. "That’s... actually kind of poetic."
Ymir shot them both a look. "This isn’t a sightseeing tour. It’s a crypt. And we’re walking through it. Does no one else find this insane?"
Hermes smirked faintly. "C’mon, admit it. Creepy, yeah. But kind of thrilling."
Ymir gave him the flattest stare he could muster. "You’re insufferable."
They walked deeper. The path twisted, branched, but always came back to more of the same. Bones. Silence. The weight of centuries pressing down on them.
Then, just as Ymir opened his mouth again—
Bang!
The trapdoor above slammed shut.
The sound echoed down the passage like a gunshot.
Instantly, Ymir’s flame sputtered. Magni’s fire winked out.
Darkness swallowed them whole.
Ymir cursed. "Shit! My flame—"
"I cannot summon mine either," Magni hissed.
Only Hermes didn’t panic. His eyes gleamed faintly gold as he blinked into the pitch black. Raphael’s night vision sharpened everything. The stone. The bones. And....
Something moving.
Thin, writhing tendrils. Like living shadows, curling out of the alcoves. Sliding along the walls. Reaching.
Hermes froze. His breath caught.
"Ymir," he said, voice tight.
"What?" Ymir snapped.
"Don’t move."
A tendril uncoiled, brushing across Hermes’ arm. Cold as ice.
And then more followed, stretching out from the dark, snaking toward them!