The tunnels were quieter now, though the air was thick with the lingering musk of blood and demonic essence.
Damien's stride never faltered, his hand resting casually at his side as if he were strolling through the streets of Delwig rather than a nest of death. Lyone hurried to keep up, blade still slick with the gore of his earlier kill.
"Hold." Damien's voice was sudden, sharp.
From deeper ahead, the clash of steel and the guttural roar of a beast rang out. Damien extended his hand, halting Lyone from charging forward. He moved in silence, eyes narrowing at the glow of sparks reflecting off the walls.
A warrior—a young man in Apnoch's squad—was being driven back by a mutated mana beast, its body twisted and hunched, black veins bulging across its skin.
The warrior's blade trembled with each block, sweat soaking his brow. His foot slipped on the damp stone and the beast lunged, claws poised to tear his chest open.
