Evelyn had certainly seen sandstorms before—even the one Apocalypse conjured not long ago had been far more ferocious than this.
However, a sandstorm with a face was something she had never witnessed. That twisted, demonic visage was straight out of a nightmare, making her blood run cold. Even if its power didn't match Apocalypse's storm, this one still left her face drained of color.
"I never should've taken this job... Damn it, what the hell is that thing? I'm definitely having nightmares tonight!" Evelyn practically jumped behind Herman, her reaction now almost instinctive.
She knew the sorcerer who hired her had the power to deal with this kind of threat—after all, even mighty ancient gods had fallen before him. Though Herman dismissed Apocalypse as a false god, his strength was enough to make Evelyn see no real difference between the two.
"It's just another ancient being... someone who, through some means, gained millennia of magic and learned to use strange tricks."
A glimmer of divine light flashed in Herman's eyes as he discerned the battered mummy hidden within the heart of the sandstorm.
"You know," he said, glancing back at the terrified Evelyn, "this reminds me of a wise saying from my homeland."
"Hurry! Hurry! It's coming! The storm's heading right for us!" Evelyn shouted, panic rising in her voice.
Out of sheer fear, she pressed herself against Herman's back.
"Don't worry... It's nothing but a cheap trick. He's just showing off." Herman turned back and unleashed the Death Power surging within him.
A torrent of death energy exploded outward, overwhelming and unstoppable. In the invisible realm, it condensed into an enormous spectral face that rushed forward to meet the sandstorm head-on.
Compared to the colossal visage formed from death energy, the face within the storm looked tiny—instantly swallowed whole by the greater force.
In an instant, the churning sands vanished without a trace. From the fading dust, a tattered, shriveled mummy tumbled onto the ground.
A few scarab beetles with gleaming shells crawled out from the mummy's decayed wrappings. As if sensing impending doom, they immediately burrowed into the sand.
"Jibber-jabber, kuli-wala, xixi-la-gua~!" the ragged mummy shouted, struggling to rise to its feet.
But before it could stand, its body froze in midair, gripped by an unseen power that dragged it helplessly toward Herman and Evelyn.
The immense magic it had once wielded—earned through millennia of torment in the realm of the dead—was now utterly stagnant, as if sealed away.
"Havroglah! Gililah! Ibragah!" the mummy cried out frantically in a flurry of incomprehensible words.
"Care to translate?" Herman asked, realizing the creature was speaking an obscure ancient Egyptian dialect. He turned to Evelyn, who was trembling behind him with her hands covering her eyes. The mummy's ghastly appearance had nearly made her faint.
Even so, curiosity won out. Evelyn peeked through her fingers and muttered, "He says you have no idea what you're doing. If you disturb the deity sealed in this place, the entire world—and us—will be doomed."
Herman arched a brow. "All that from a few syllables? Impressive."
"The world will end?" he said with a soft chuckle, turning back to the mummy. "You're seriously underestimating this world. Honestly, I didn't expect you to end up as this tomb's guardian."
His tone carried a hint of surprise—because he had already recognized the mummy's identity. It was Imhotep, the main antagonist from the first Mummy film.
The high priest who had endured three thousand years of torment and returned from the realm of the dead now stood before him. This was the same man who once despised the pharaohs of ancient Egypt—yet here he was, serving as the guardian of Hamunaptra, the City of the Dead.
"Xili-huala, kuli-gaga, moli-sira~!" Imhotep roared, his voice raspy and desperate.
"He says we have to leave this place," Evelyn translated quickly. "He wants to protect the world so he can one day see his beloved reincarnated."
Evelyn's brow furrowed. Even she was startled that she could understand the ancient language so clearly.
"What a tragic love story..." Herman said softly. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you're reunited with her—eventually. But first, you'll pay the price for attacking me."
"Apocalypse was right about one thing... Blasphemy is unforgivable."
With those words, Herman opened the gate to the [Realm of the Dead] and hurled Imhotep—who never truly belonged to the world of the living—into it.
The ancient mummy, bearer of millennia of dark power, didn't even have time to react before he found himself cast into a cold, endless world of the dead.
"Near-Sky Father."
Through the energy feedback from the [Realm of the Dead], Herman gauged the true power level of the millennia-old High Priest, Imhotep.
He was roughly on par with Laufey, King of the Frost Giants—better than nothing, Herman thought. After all, he knew the true prize of this journey lay within Hamunaptra, the City of the Dead—the mysterious being Imhotep believed could destroy the world upon awakening.
"The Death Law within me has become much more active," Herman murmured, his gaze fixed on the massive pyramid at the city's center. Even his enhanced, godlike vision couldn't pierce its outer shell to see what lay within.
Clearly, the material used to construct that pyramid was far from ordinary.
Even so, Herman could tell that Imhotep's "warning" was likely accurate.
Their arrival had indeed stirred something within the pyramid—a presence, a will—emanating a faint yet unmistakable trace of life. And now, that consciousness had locked onto them.
"To be precise... it's locked onto me."
Herman's eyes deepened as he stared at the central pyramid. He understood perfectly well why that being had turned its attention toward him.
The Death Law within him thirsted to consume the other's power—and naturally, the entity within felt the same hunger toward him. The laws they embodied guaranteed that only one could remain!
"Power to destroy the world? Let's see what you really are."
...
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