This place reeks of ritual… The walls are covered in carvings. It’s incredibly dark inside. Bailey uses his device and a flashlight to examine the walls. “Do you know who carved these?” I ask.


    "Likely carved by the old Mesoselenians, I reckon," Bailey replies after a closer look.


    "What do you think these carvings depict?" I asked Bailey, curious about the strange symbols and figures etched into the walls.


    "Haven''t the foggiest about that bit," Bailey says with a shake of his head.


    We make our way down the building. Thankfully, the stairs are still intact. The rooms are remarkably well preserved, but completely empty and coated in dust. Each room is tiny. There must be hundreds of them.


    They emptied everything before leaving. These living conditions… It’s like they were living in jail cells.


    On the ground floor looms a massive door. We carefully push it open, a cloud of dust billowing out to greet us. Thankfully, Bailey’s gadget doesn’t trigger any alarms. A colossal statue stands solemnly in the center of the room.


    "Right then, I''m certain now. This city''s ancient Mesoselenian, through and through," Bailey declares, pointing at the statue.


    “That’s…?” I murmur, awestruck by the sheer size of the statue and its intricate details.


    Bailey explains that the Mesoselenians believed in reincarnation after death, and this is a statue of their deity. Legend says this deity purifies the soul after death and returns it to this world. They call it Nyotha, which translates to Purity.


    “Their deity is a tree?” I mutter, staring at the massive tree-shaped statue.


    We circle the statue. An altar stands in each of the four corners of the room.


    Sssss…Sss…Ssssss


    “Listen… something’s here,” I whisper, nudging Bailey.


    Bailey sidles up beside me, his gun already drawn. "Where? I don''t see a bloomin'' thing." He scans the room, his eyes darting around.


    “I think it’s underground.” I drop to the floor and press my ear against the cold stone.


    Sssss…Sss…Ssssss


    “It’s below us, quite a ways down.” I pull back my fist, ready to give the floor a good whack.


    "Whoa there! Steady on! This place is worth more than all the gold in the world!" Bailey yelps, grabbing my arm and pulling me back. "We''re not knockin'' down some old historical place, are we?"


    We stand up, dusting ourselves off. “Right, then,” I say. “Let’s look for a switch, or a hidden door. You know, the usual.” Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    All the isekai novels I’ve devoured practically scream that a place like this has to have a secret passage or room hidden somewhere. It’s practically a rule.


    We start searching. I try to budge one of the altars, but it''s like trying to move a mountain. They’re absolutely immovable. I examine them more closely. The ground around them looks a bit… off. I wipe away the thick layer of dust. There’s a distinct tile directly beneath each altar.


    I press down hard on one altar. It sinks slightly. “Bailey! I think I found something!” I call out. We try pressing on all the altars individually. They all depress a little under the pressure.


    “Alright, let’s try all four at once,” I suggest. We improvise, using Bailey’s hefty backpack on one altar, a large, conveniently placed stone on another, and we each press down on the remaining two.


    Click… whoosh… whoosh… whoosh… whoosh


    Arrows shoot out from all four directions…


    “BAILEY!!!”


    I charged towards Bailey, momentarily forgetting a cardinal rule of adventuring—traps! How could I be so dense? It’s practically a trope in every novel!


    Bailey scrambled to his feet. “I’m fine…”


    “Are you sure?!” I checked him over for injuries, my hands fluttering across his limbs.


    “I’m alright, I’m alright!" Bailey said, trying to sound calm but his voice still trembling slightly. “Remember, I build traps for a living. These little things are nothing!” Bailey puffed out his chest, a wide grin spreading across his face.


    The arrows, embedded deep in the stone walls, were a testament to their force. Yet, miraculously, neither Bailey nor his bag had suffered a scratch. These arrows could pierce stone, but bounced right off them.


    “What is your bag and cloth made of? Dragon scales?” I asked, genuinely curious. They looked like ordinary leather.


    “Now this is something special!” He patted his bag proudly. “They say this stuff’s tougher than nails, stronger than any iron you’ve ever seen. Woven from some kind of critter’s silk, they say. And I’ll be, they weren’t exaggerating!”


    “I reckon there’s a certain way things are meant to go on each table. Certain items, certain weights, I’d wager,” Bailey mused, beginning his search.


    I dusted off a nearby table. Each one, I noticed, had a subtle but distinct indentation.


    We circled the hall, scanning for ritualistic items or anything of use. We came up empty. Had everything been removed when the place was abandoned?


    “Maybe we should just leave,” I suggested, disheartened. “Whatever’s underneath probably isn’t that important. It might even be empty.”


    “Might be nothing inside, might be something interesting. We won’t know until we have a peek. I’m dying to see what’s underneath. A bit of adventure never hurt nobody, right?” Bailey chuckled.


    Turning my thoughts to the mechanism, I asked Bailey, “Do you know anything special about the Mesoselenians? Anything symbolic or ritualistic?”


    “Nothing too specific, really. They used Adamantine for their rituals, and they were big on… well, Nyotha,” Bailey replied.


    A spark ignited in my mind. I rummaged in my bag, pulling out one of the adamantine bars and placing it on the altar. It slotted perfectly into the indentation. The altar slowly sank a fraction.


    Did Dr. Keyser know about this place? Maybe he came here before and robbed it clean.


    I marked the altar’s descent and placed stones on it until it reached the same depth. Then, I moved to the next altar and repeated the process. One by one, they sank. Finally, we reached the last one. I told Bailey to wait outside, just in case there were any more nasty surprises lurking.


    As the last altar clicked into place, the hall rumbled, and dust rained down from the walls. The massive statue began to descend, revealing a spiral staircase in the newly formed hole.


    These people really had a thing for digging…