The chasm widened into a vast underground basin, lit only by rivers of molten stone snaking across the floor. Heat shimmered in the air, warping the dark silhouettes of broken pillars and collapsed caverns. The deeper Noel and Noir went, the fewer hunters there were—until finally, there were none.
'Dad… this place feels different,' Noir murmured in her great-beast voice, each step shaking dust from the stalactites above. 'The mana is heavy. Like something old lives here.'
"Good," Noel replied quietly. "Old usually means strong."
The Veil of the Silent Sentinel rippled faintly around his shoulders, reacting to the ambient hostility that soaked the air like invisible pressure. Every pulse made the fabric grow heavier… denser… preparing itself.
Ahead, a stone arch cracked open from years of strain, revealing a cavern so massive it resembled the belly of a hollowed mountain. Inside, the ground trembled in a rhythm too slow and too deep to be natural.
Noel narrowed his eyes.
