Ling Yu's gaze lingered on the woman, then drifted past her toward the village where dozens more moved about peacefully, tending to gardens, playing music, weaving flowers into each other's hair.
No monsters. No screams. No blood.
It was like a paradise.
But her instincts screamed otherwise.
She gave a faint nod, forcing a smile. "Thank you for your hospitality."
The elf woman inclined her head gracefully, gesturing toward the path. "Follow me. The Elder will wish to meet the chosen of light."
As they followed, Ye Qingxue whispered under her breath, "Chosen of light? What does that mean?"
Ling Yu's expression didn't change, but her voice was low and sharp.
"It means this dungeon already knows who we are."
The village was a masterpiece of living magic, trees carved into homes, crystal lights hovering midair, children laughing as they played among glowing flowers. Every step they took released faint motes of light from the grass, as if the world itself welcomed them.
