The air was damp and heavy, filled with the scent of wet earth and moss.
Wuhan stepped carefully into the narrow tunnel, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the thick layer of roots and stone beneath his feet.
A wisp of red flame floated before him, producing crackling noises as if it was burning something in the air.
The dim green light from the glowing moss was overwhelmed by the warm glow of the flame, casting soft shadows along the curved walls and the faces of the people present in the narrow passage.
Behind him walked Sylvheriel, her pale features calm but alert. She should have been the one leading the group in the front, but she stayed close to Captain Black Sword, whose sharp sheathed blade rested on his back, his sharp eyes scanning the room very closely.
The remaining seven soldiers formed a tight group behind them, quiet and focused.
They followed the trio in the front, tracing their steps without straying away even for a second.
