A sandstorm had occurred, and several American leaders had been sucked dry into mummies.
O'Connell no longer had the heart to fight those Black-Robed Figures—if they wanted to wipe them out, now was the best time.
The horses snorted as they surrounded them in a circle. The leader was still the same man from yesterday. Currently, he was holding the reins, looking down at Evelyn and O'Connell.
"I said, leave or die. You didn't listen." He dismounted, walking step by step toward O'Connell under the fearful gazes of the workers, his voice carrying the dry rasp of the desert.
"Now everyone must die."
O'Connell looked at Evelyn, and the woman was equally bewildered. "What are you talking about?"
"Among you, someone read an incantation and resurrected a monster that has slept for three thousand years." The Black-Robed Figure's sharp eyes swept over the camp, his brow furrowing as he suddenly sensed something was wrong. "Wait... where is the book of the dead?"
Evelyn just remembered. She let go of O'Connell and hurried toward the camp where they had been stationed—it wasn't there. That book was gone.
"Someone secretly read an incantation from the book of the dead, releasing a monster that has slumbered for three thousand years. And yet you were completely oblivious, drinking and making merry, celebrating and feasting over the plundered gold and jewelry. You don't even know where the scripture went." The Black-Robed Figure's word-for-word statement made Evelyn feel a bit embarrassed.
But... a monster?
"I'm sorry, I... I don't understand. You say this 'monster' is a... Beast? Are you keeping animals here?" The woman had never believed in such things, and the sudden turn of events left everyone present bewildered. "Let's get one thing straight, shall we? Who exactly are you?"
"We are the guards of the Pharaoh." The leading Black-Robed Figure patted the scimitar at his waist and paced across the sand, looking around as he spoke. "For thousands of years, we have faithfully performed our duty to prevent..."
The man turned to stare at OConnell. "To prevent curious, greedy people like you from accidentally releasing it."
Evelyn remembered.
"You mean, the person who suffered the punishment of the hom-dai?"
"Don't be ridiculous..."
"His name is Imhotep." The Black-Robed Figure leader was not joking. "If you are 'lucky,' you will see it very soon..."
Evelyn said nothing, but giving up the argument didn't mean she believed in such supernatural nonsense.
Seeing this, the man gave a cold laugh, and his subordinates on horseback efficiently unslung the rifles from their backs, cocking them with a series of clicks.
"Hey! Easy, friend..." OConnell raised his hands and quickly stepped forward to shield Evelyn and Jonathan. "Calm down! We haven't taken anything..."
Evelyn pushed OConnell aside and glared fearlessly at the Black-Robed Figure. "I respect your traditions and myths... fairy tales? But you can't kill us all just because of a story!"
"You would slaughter the innocent because of a legend?"
"You call yourselves innocent?" The leader curled his lip in a cold sneer, looking at the scarred land that had been excavated. "Breaking into someone else's home is 'innocent'?"
Evelyn's face turned beet red; while there were historical issues involved, they were definitely not in the right.
"...I admit, we were wrong. But you can't—"
"Eve." OConnell interrupted at the right moment, pointing to a collapsed tent nearby. "A desiccated corpse."
The once robust and strong Mr. Cowboy was now like a shriveled, dehydrated stick, darkly wrapped in the tent canvas.
"Mr. Henderson?!"
The three of them slowly approached—before the body, the Black-Robed Figure leader drew his scimitar with a flourish and tapped the corpse's arm with the back of the blade. The desiccated limb was as brittle as burnt charcoal, shattering into countless pieces at the slightest touch.
The corpse's face still retained the hideous expression it had at the moment of death.
"All moisture is gone. The eyes, and..." The man knelt down, using a dagger to pry open the corpse's mouth. "The tongue is gone as well."
"It... has been resurrected."
The man glared at the group before him with a mix of anger and disbelief; how could they look so relaxed?
"That is a monster whose soul is filled with cruelty and resentment! He has suffered for three thousand years. What do you think is the first thing it will do upon waking?!"
Jonathan peeked out from behind OConnell's shoulder. "Brush his teeth?"
Evelyn gave her brother a shove. The woman, who didn't believe in spirits at all, wanted to argue back, but as she looked around, she suddenly felt something was missing.
—Wait, where was Mori Tsukisa?
"Jonathan, didn't I tell you to watch Mori Tsukisa?!"
"I was sleeping, sister. Besides, who could possibly keep an eye on her?"
For the past two days, the girl had been wandering around the camp with her maid. A girl who didn't have to work and had no interest in documents or classics was indeed easy to overlook.
And Evelyn, whose heart was entirely set on the legend she had dreamed of, had managed to lose her sister just like that.
"Mori Tsukisa!" Evelyn stomped her foot and began searching everywhere in the messy camp, trying to dig through the yellow sand piled up after the sandstorm and the wreckage of tents and wood with her bare hands. "Little Forest! Where are you?"
"She couldn't have gone far; the camels are still here." OConnell caught up to Evelyn and pulled her out of the sand pile. "Stop digging! She's a clever girl; she wouldn't take her maid deep into the desert."
Jonathan added, "A wealthy clever girl."
"So, where else could she go?!" In her exasperation, Evelyn gripped OConnell's hand tightly, her five fingernails sinking into the man's arm. "Where is she! She can't do this, I'm the one who lost her!"
"Mori Tsukisa?" the Black-Robed Figure suddenly interjected. "The clever girl?"
"The book of the dead and your sister are gone. If you tell me she also understands Ancient Egyptian..." The leader watched Evelyn's terrified face, and his heart sank bit by bit.
"No." The leader dismissed his own suspicion. "The book of the dead cannot be opened without the 'key'."
"Key?"
Jonathan felt his pocket and then looked at Evelyn. Under his sister's expectant gaze, he slowly shook his head.
She... had indeed taken the key.
"My Little Forest..."
Evelyn leaned against OConnell as if she had lost her soul.
"If it was your sister who resurrected Imhotep, her chance of survival is zero." The leader spoke coldly, indifferent to the life or death of Evelyn's so-called sister. "Leave now. We won't need to lift a finger; it will find you."
The man sheathed his scimitar, and the dark muzzles of the guns were quietly lowered as his words fell. "Imhotep will find you. It will not spare anyone who profanes its place of eternal rest."
"No! No, I can't leave... I have to find Little Forest!" Evelyn suddenly pushed OConnell away and glared at the Black-Robed Figure. "Who are you kidding? You think we'll believe your ghost stories? Did you kidnap her?!"
The leader looked at OConnell.
The man nodded, stepped forward quietly, and suddenly scooped Evelyn up over his shoulder, ignoring her struggles.
"We're leaving first."
OConnell felt something was strange here.
It wasn't that he believed the Black-Robed Figure's talk of a 'resurrected monster,' but... those creepy-crawlies.
Those sounds were not hallucinations.
Or rather, who could turn a crowd of workers into desiccated corpses in just two minutes?
These Black-Robed Figures couldn't do it.
Something must be beyond their understanding—rather than wasting time here, it was better to get Evelyn back first.
Compared to Mori Tsukisa... OConnell cared more about Evelyn.
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