The way down from the second tier narrowed as it fell, the bone-pale halls closing in until the family walked single file through passages barely wide enough for Kenshin's shoulders. The iron roots grew thicker here, coiling down the walls and across the floor, and the low held note of the dungeon deepened with every step, dropping from a ringing hum into something felt more than heard, a slow pressure that sat in the chest like the memory of a drum.
The water grew louder too. It had been a murmur far above them. Now it was a presence, a steady rushing dark somewhere below, and the air turned cool and wet against their skin.
"We are close to the bottom," Erix said quietly, his amber eyes drifting ahead through the dark. "The passage opens soon. Something wide. Something wet."
"The last Warden first," Tenebria reminded them. "Three tiers, three Wardens. We have killed two. The King does not wake until the third falls."
