"We're here."
Stopping in front of a seemingly ordinary rock formation about thirty minutes north of Gravestone, Damien looked at the map on his translucent system screen, then at the rugged terrain in front of him.
To the naked eye, this place was nothing but a collection of jagged boulders and overgrown moss, the kind of place 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, a warning to the weak to stay away. Here, there was nothing but the sound of wind whistling through the cracks.
