She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 453

"Ms. Lonsdale, thank you." The white-haired geologist's voice was dry, breaking the silence with genuine admiration and apology. "We relied too much on instruments and data, ignoring the specific characteristics of the mineral veins. Your professional judgment saved everyone."

Loyce nodded casually, all her attention back on the comms, her voice slightly tight. "Lucian, how are you guys holding up?"

A few seconds of silence passed before Lucian's slightly panting but steady voice came through: "We're fine. The shockwave was far enough away. We're safe."

Loyce's tense nerves relaxed a little. "Okay, keep in touch."

There was no further response, and the microphone was temporarily muted.

Robert, following closely behind Lucian, panted as he stepped forward, saying, "Loyce is incredible. She's better than those instruments and data, more accurate than those old scholars. How does she seem to know everything?"

"She just beat those scholars and data with practical knowledge," Lucian's voice was low, carrying a hint of heartache.

Robert was surprised for a moment before understanding. "You mean, she made such accurate judgments because she's actually experienced similar situations?"

Lucian didn't answer, but his silence was the best response.

Robert was stunned, blurting out, "Even if she wasn't favored by the Sampson family, she grew up a privileged lady in Metropia. How could she know so much about things we find incredibly dangerous? How many insane things has she done all by herself?"

Lucian furrowed his brows. "Let's keep moving. We don't have much time left."

The team trudged along the right route Loyce indicated. Though the detour took more time than estimated, the rock layers were as stable as she said.

The blizzard continued to intensify. After an unknown amount of time, relying on thermal imaging, Lucian finally found Forrest and his team's temporary shelter deep in a sheltered, shallow cave crevice.

The footage transmitted back to the tent was shocking.

Seven or eight people lay scattered on the ground, mostly unconscious or semi-conscious. Their faces were an unnatural ashen-gray, breathing weak.

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