The demons approached Floor Nine's entrance casually. They made this journey countless times.
Five of them, all gray-skinned and heavily muscled, carrying empty sacks meant for ore and metal scraps they'd collect from the corrupted temple's ruins.
The Iron Soot Clan sent foraging parties down to the lower floors weekly. Floor Nine's undead rarely bothered with physical materials, which made it perfect for scavenging iron, copper, and occasionally silver from the temple's crumbling structure.
"Think we'll find anything good this time?" one demon asked, adjusting the sack on his shoulder. His voice carried the rough quality of someone who spent their days near forge fires.
"Same as always," another replied. "Scrap metal, maybe some decent iron if we're lucky. The boss wants three hundred pounds before we head back."
They reached the portal.
A shimmering gateway that should have shown the corrupted temple's dark interior.
