From the moment we crossed into the second layer of that dungeon, something didn't fit. It wasn't just the constant presence of cold, nor the silence that was far too heavy for a place that should be full of creatures. It was the feeling of walking through a space that had been thought out, calculated. Not a place that came into being by chance.
I felt it with every step.
The walls weren't irregular like ordinary caves. They had cuts that were too straight, angles that were too precise. There were marks on the ground that weren't claws or natural wear. They were trails. Routes. Paths made for constant passage.
"This isn't a normal dungeon," I said quietly, more to myself than to the group.
Vespera walked a few steps ahead, bow in hand, looking around as if she expected to miss a shot even without firing. "You only noticed that now? I've tripped three times, and none of them were because of loose stones. The ground is… too regular."
Elara breathed deeply, clearly controlling her mana consumption. The paleness in her face wasn't new, but here it seemed more pronounced. "There's no natural flow of mana here. It's all channeled. Like veins."
Liriel carefully touched one of the walls. The faint light she could conjure flickered, almost failing. "It wasn't created by a god. And it definitely wasn't shaped by chance. This is the work of someone who understands magical architecture… and war."
That last word lingered in the air.
We moved on, and the further we went, the clearer it became. There were elevated points that worked as observation posts. Passages too narrow for large monsters, but perfect for armed humanoid creatures. Wide chambers positioned exactly where larger forces could gather.
This wasn't a lair.
It was a barracks.
"They're preparing," I murmured, feeling the flame react restlessly. It wasn't fear. It was recognition. "All of this was built to sustain an army."
Aelthryn Silvarion walked behind us in absolute silence. Ever since he had joined the incursion, his presence had been almost oppressive. Not because he imposed himself, but because he always seemed one step ahead of everything. When he finally spoke, his voice echoed with a calm that unsettled me more than shouting would have.
"Not just to sustain," he said. "To move. To retreat. To advance. This structure was designed for long campaigns."
I looked at him. "You've seen something like this before?"
"Something similar," he replied. "During the last demonic war, before I took leadership of the elven guild. The dungeons used by the generals are not hunting grounds. They are extensions of their command."
Vespera swallowed hard. "So we're basically walking inside a demonic military base."
"Yes," Aelthryn confirmed without hesitation.
We reached a larger chamber. At its center, a symbol was engraved into the ground. It wasn't decorative. Lines of frozen energy connected to the walls, the ceiling, the floor, forming a closed circuit. When I approached, the flame inside me pulsed hard enough to make me stop.
"Don't get any closer," Liriel said quickly. "That's a command node."
"A what?" Vespera asked.
"A point where orders are transmitted," Liriel replied. "Not verbally. By intent."
Aelthryn observed the symbol with unusual focus. "This general doesn't need to be present to command. He feels everything that happens here."
A chill ran down my spine.
"So he knows we're here," I said.
"Probably since the moment we crossed the first seal," Aelthryn replied.
Elara clenched her fists. "Then why haven't we been attacked with everything he has?"
No one answered immediately.
The answer came from within me, with a bitter certainty. "Because he doesn't need to."
We advanced deeper and found dormitories carved into the walls, improvised arsenals, training areas. Some still bore recent marks. Footprints. Residues of demonic magic. The metallic smell of old blood mixed with the cold.
Everything organized.
Everything functional.
"This changes everything," I murmured. "We're not dealing with random attacks. He's gathering forces."
Liriel nodded, clearly uncomfortable. "And if he's just waiting for the right moment…"
"Then when he moves," Vespera finished, "it won't be just one city that falls."
We stopped at a point where the corridor split into three directions. At the center, a statue of black ice depicted a figure seated on a throne. The face was indistinct, but the eyes… the eyes were turned directly toward me.
I didn't need to touch it.
The flame reacted violently.
For an instant, the world seemed to vanish. The cold became absolute. And then I heard the voice.
"You arrived earlier than I expected."
My body froze.
Aelthryn stepped forward immediately. "Takumi."
I took a deep breath. The vision disappeared, but the sensation remained. The symbol on the ground cracked slightly, as if pressed from within.
"He… he's aware," I said. "And he's watching us."
Aelthryn closed his eyes for a brief moment. When he opened them, there was something different in them. Not fear. Respect.
"Then there's no doubt," he said. "We are facing the Sixth General of the Demons."
The silence that followed was heavy.
I looked ahead, feeling the flame burn like never before. For the first time since everything began, I was absolutely certain of one thing.
We were not ready.
And he knew it.