Rowan's heel slammed into the massive door.
Instead of shattering, the stone surface flared with complex runes, absorbing the impact.
Arvel hurried forward.
"Sir, that door leads to the inner burial chamber. It can't be opened by force. You have to use the Golden Claw."
Rowan studied the glowing patterns, eyes tracing how energy flowed across the surface.
"So this door is the core anchor. Every defensive enchantment in the entire tomb routes its power here."
He smiled faintly.
"Makes sense."
He hadn't learned this world's magic yet, but systems were systems. Once you understood structure, function became obvious.
"Let's try a little harder."
Rowan raised his leg again.
This time, he didn't hold back.
The kick landed.
The runes flared wildly.
Then collapsed.
The entire door shattered into flying fragments.
Arvel froze.
Rowan brushed dust from his sleeve and walked through.
The main burial chamber dwarfed everything before it.
Rows upon rows of stone coffins lined both sides of a wide central path.
At the far end stood a curved stone wall carved with enormous draconic symbols.
A shallow stream flowed beneath a small arched bridge.
Opposite the wall rested a massive, ornate sarcophagus.
The tomb's true master.
As rubble settled, coffin lids began sliding open.
One after another.
Elite draugr rose.
Warriors.
Champions.
Commanders.
The sarcophagus at the far end creaked.
A deep voice rolled through the chamber.
"I do not sleep.
I do not die."
Arvel collapsed to his knees, shaking.
"By the Eight… I'm done with tombs forever…"
The undead surged forward.
Fireballs. Frost spears. Lightning bolts. Enchanted arrows.
Rowan clapped his hands together.
A shockwave blasted outward, dispersing every incoming attack before it could touch him.
He slammed both palms into the floor.
The ground exploded.
Draugr and broken stone were hurled into the air.
Rowan snapped his fingers repeatedly.
Chunks of rock fired upward like bullets, punching through skulls, ribcages, and spines.
Within seconds, the chamber fell quiet.
Only the figure near the dragon wall still stood.
The tomb's lord.
It raised its head and bellowed:
"FUS… RO… DAH!"
An invisible force roared forward.
Not wind.
Not sound.
Pure kinetic pressure.
Rowan drove his feet into the stone floor, anchoring himself as the wave slammed into him like a speeding train.
The force couldn't injure him.
But it could move him.
So he refused to move.
Cracks spread beneath his boots.
The shout faded.
Rowan looked up.
"My turn."
He vanished.
Reappeared in front of the draugr lord.
Rowan inhaled.
And roared.
A cone of compressed sound erupted from his lungs, a physical blast of pressure that smashed into the undead king.
Three seconds later, the draugr's body crumbled into drifting ash.
No magic.
Just overwhelming acoustics.
Rowan turned toward the towering draconic wall.
He studied the symbols carved across its surface.
Unrelenting Force.
Powerful.
Elegant.
Useful.
He memorized every line.
There would be time later to understand it properly.
First, he would finish here.