The light from the bone gate faded behind them, swallowed by root and stone.
Leon led in silence, sword now strapped across his back. It didn't hum anymore. Didn't glow. It simply waited. Like everything else in this cursed place.
The path twisted downward.
Narrow turns and low arches forced them to duck and shift their gear. The walls breathed with them, warm and wet like living bark. Strange sigils pulsed briefly along the sides, vanishing as quickly as they came. Tomas muttered curses beneath his breath, each one sharper than the last.
They didn't speak much. They didn't need to.
The air was growing thinner.
Hours passed. Or maybe just minutes stretched long. When the tunnel finally opened, it gave way to a cliff—high, sheer, and open to a valley that didn't exist on any map.
