"We're here."
Damien stopped in front of a seemingly ordinary rock formation about thirty minutes north of Gravestone.
He checked the map on his translucent system screen, then looked up at the rugged terrain.
To the naked eye, this place was nothing but a collection of jagged boulders and overgrown moss, the kind of scenery adventurers would walk past without a second glance.
"Here?" Lyra frowned, her sharp elven ears twitching as she scanned the area.
"Damien, not to doubt the Voss family intelligence, but there is no mana fluctuation here. No dungeon entrance, no spatial distortion. Just rocks."
She tightened her grip on her mana bow, her blue eyes narrowing.
The skepticism was valid. In the world of Elias, dungeons usually emitted a distinct, heavy pressure to warn the weak.
Here, the only sound was the wind whistling through the cracks.
"That's exactly why it hasn't been found for centuries," Damien said, a confident smirk playing on his lips.
