Wayne didn't know whether this girl called Rebecca had taken a knock to the head during the fight with the monsters, but he patiently replied.
"Although I've been 'living' here for many years... I was dead, okay? Can you tell what your own grave looks like after you die?"
Rebecca thought about it and was about to remind her ancestor that back in the day, the founding king of Andraste had his imperial mausoleum built while he was still alive, the High King had even helped design it himself. But on reflection, she figured that if she kept running her mouth, Aunt Hestia would probably kill her on the spot, so she swallowed the words back down and laughed awkwardly instead.
"Ahaha... fair point."
"We can't go back the way we came," Hestia sighed, analyzing the situation calmly. "The castle courtyard and the entrance to the ancestral crypt have both been overrun by those monsters. Going back that way is a death sentence."
"We need to find another route," Wayne said, sifting through his inherited memories as he spoke. "It's been seven hundred years, the castle on this territory probably isn't the same structure it used to be, right?"
"The upper levels have been renovated several times, but the foundations were left untouched," Hestia said quickly. "The entrance you mentioned should still be in its original location."
"Is that so? Then this should be manageable," Wayne said, extending his hand toward one of the soldiers nearby. "Lend me your sword for a moment."
Taking the longsword the soldier handed over, Wayne began scratching out diagrams on the ground. He first drew a bird's-eye view of the castle's outline, then a rough cross-section divided into three levels. Though hastily sketched, the general layout was clear enough.
"The entrance is here, two levels underground, next to the wine cellar and the grain stores, at least, that's what they were back then. There are two passages that lead inside, but both require going through the surface, so they're probably not an option."
Rebecca peered curiously at the sketch Wayne had dashed off. "Those are still the wine cellar and grain stores now, but I never knew there was a third room between them..."
"It's not a room, it's a hidden interstitial space, concealed between the walls and support beams using some architectural tricks," Wayne smiled. "This land wasn't exactly peaceful back in those days. Out here on the frontier, monsters crawling out of the Gondor Imperium's ruins and crazed remnants of the old imperial army would come knocking every week and a half. The earliest Seawright territory was built practically to the standard of a war fortress. Under those circumstances, hidden passages and false walls were essential, useful for emergency evacuations and for smuggling in supplies during a siege."
Ser Byron studied the crude map carefully, then drew his own sword and began sketching in the area below.
"So we need to reach the entrance on the castle's second underground level... without passing through any surface corridors, including the courtyard. Here's where we are now. The ancestral crypt was built as an underground structure to the southeast of the castle, with roughly one-third of it overlapping the castle's foundations..."
"Right in that overlapping area, there should be a passage," Wayne cut in. "The crypt was built seven hundred years ago, by the same craftsmen who built the war fortress. These structures were all built to the standards and conventions of that era, backup passages would have been included as a matter of course."
As he said this, he gave Rebecca a somewhat puzzled look.
"You really knew nothing about any of this? This should all be knowledge passed down through House Seawright, generation after generation."
Rebecca lowered her head, a little ashamed. "I..."
"Great Ancestor, we have failed to live up to the glory you won for this family," Hestia said, biting her lip, the words clearly difficult. "House Seawright has been through a great deal in these seven hundred years..."
"All right, I understand," Wayne waved his hand. Now wasn't the time for stories. "Once we're out of here, I'll sit you both down and learn everything that's happened in the last seven centuries. Right now, the priority is finding the route from the crypt to the hidden passage."
Rebecca, Hestia, and Byron, all three crouched around the crude maps and puzzled over them, but although they knew House Seawright's ancient castle, they were unfamiliar with the crypt's layout. This seven-hundred-year-old mausoleum wasn't some two-silver-coin tourist attraction where you could pop in for a stroll whenever you liked. Even a hundred years ago, before the crypt was sealed, the family heir was permitted only a handful of visits in their entire lifetime, and even then, they weren't allowed near the ancestor's resting place.
Who could possibly know where the hidden passage was?
On this question, even Wayne's memories were useless. After all, he certainly hadn't anticipated when he died that he'd one day need to climb back out and figure out an exit route...
But just as the group was at a complete loss, Amber, who had been standing quietly off to the side the whole time, suddenly spoke up. "Hey... I might know the way..."
Instantly, every pair of eyes in the crypt turned to the half-elf thief.
Amber's neck immediately shrank into her shoulders.
Hestia frowned. "How would you know?"
"I..." Amber was a little scared, but after catching Wayne's encouraging look, she mustered her courage. "That's the way I came in... The direction should be about right. I'm guessing that was the hidden passage."
Wayne nodded. "Good. You lead the way."
Amber patted her chest. "As long as you all promise not to hold the whole grave-robbing thing against me..."
Hestia shot a glare at this tactless half-elf, then picked up her staff and turned toward the chamber door. But Wayne stopped just before taking a step.
"Great Ancestor?" Rebecca looked at him curiously.
"I need a weapon too." Wayne said. He might not be the legendary knight who had carved out a kingdom seven hundred years ago, but he had enough common sense to want something for self-defense in a dangerous place like this.
His gaze swept across the burial chamber. One of the soldiers began unbuckling his side-sword to offer it, but Wayne waved off the gesture. Guided by memory, he walked to the black steel coffin and leaned in, rummaging around inside.
He found a heavy longsword, jet-black along its entire length, except near the crossguard where the blade faintly glowed a deep crimson.
The instant the sword was in his hand, a surge of familiarity and rightness welled up, as if every groove on the hilt matched every line of his palm with uncanny precision. Wayne instinctively gave the sword two practice swings, and each motion felt as though it had been honed through a thousand repetitions.
He knew this was the residual memory of the body he now inhabited, even though the soul had changed, every muscle still remembered how to wield this weapon.
It was a pleasant surprise, though not entirely unexpected.
Beyond the body's residual memory, his mind also contained all of Gwayne Seawright's combat knowledge from when he was alive, not just basic swordsmanship and horsemanship, but also supernatural abilities that, to Wayne, seemed almost indistinguishable from magic. This was undoubtedly tantalizing, but now was not the time for experimentation or study.
First things first, get out of this terrible situation.
Rebecca's eyes went wide the moment she saw the black longsword, and her voice even trembled slightly. "Is that... the legendary Sword of Andraste... The Pioneer?"
Hearing Rebecca's voice, Hestia, who had already reached the doorway, spun around instantly. She stared at the sword in Wayne's hand, barely able to contain her excitement. "The Pioneer's Sword?!"
"Right now it's just a rather sharp sword, nothing more," Wayne sighed. "Seven hundred years, even a weapon blessed by elves won't corrode or dull, but the magic inside has long since dissipated. Who knows how long it would take to recharge."
He then turned to look at a small stone platform in front of the coffin. It was empty, and Wayne's brow furrowed immediately. "Wait, I should have had a shield I never parted with. Wasn't it buried with me? Where did that massive shield go?"
Hestia's expression soured instantly.
"Great Ancestor... your descendants have once again failed your legacy. The Shield of Andraste. The Kingdom's Guardian was removed from the crypt a hundred years ago by your descendant, Gormon Seawright, and subsequently lost on the battlefield..."
Hestia's words came out haltingly, and she was obviously holding back a great deal, perhaps worried that if she revealed the full scope of what had happened a century ago, the ancestor before her would drop dead on the spot from sheer rage. Then again, the coffin was right there, so re-interment would be convenient enough...
Wayne could sense Hestia's hesitation but chose not to press. Instead, he scowled and cursed.
"That good-for-nothing... Thank the gods the sword was inside the coffin, or that Gormon might have been brazen enough to pry open his ancestor's casket just to complete the matching set!"
Hestia and Rebecca could only lower their heads, cold sweat running down their faces. Having an ancestor leap out of his coffin to curse your great-grandfather, this had gone well beyond the realm of fantasy. Being the younger generation here, even breathing felt stressful!
Fortunately, Wayne was only annoyed about losing a piece of equipment that might have come in handy. After one outburst, he said nothing more and led everyone out of the burial chamber.
After leaving the chamber and entering the stone hall, Rebecca looked around, then waved toward a corner.
"Betty! Come out! It's safe!"
Wayne looked over curiously and saw a thin, small girl, possibly even younger than Rebecca, timidly emerge from the shadows in the corner. She wore a rough cloth dress, had a few adolescent freckles on her face, and flax-colored hair hanging loose behind her. In her hands, she clutched a frying pan in a white-knuckled grip.
When she saw Wayne, the girl called Betty's face clearly showed hesitation and nervousness. With her not-exactly-quick wits, she probably couldn't begin to fathom where this sudden stranger had popped out of...
"She's a maid from the castle. We don't know how she got left behind by the first evacuation group either, she just sort of bumbled along with us," Rebecca gave a quick introduction. "Betty, this is..."
A faint tremor from above the crypt cut Rebecca off mid-sentence.
"Now isn't the time for introductions," Wayne raised his longsword and looked at Amber. "Lead the way."