The inside of the dungeon was a dead, twisted wilderness.
Trees stripped of life and stone spires rising from cracked ground. Before Bel and Novaria, a jagged cliff gaped open like a scar.
The air changed the moment they stepped in the area. It thickened like fog and hummed with unstable energy.
Novaria's breath hitched. Her senses, sharpened by draconic instincts, exploded with input.
She could smell the beasts ahead, earth, blood, damp fur. She could hear their claws dragging over the rocks. Her whole body tensed.
"This place isn't normal," she whispered. Her voice was low, eyes sharp. "There are... Hundreds of them. They're hidden..."
Bel said nothing. His eyes scanned the terrain, black roots, cliffs, stone bridges that led to nowhere.
Without warning, he raised his hand.
The ground shook.
A massive quake rolled outward. Stone splintered. Then, the monsters charged.
Fanged creatures leapt from the shadows, twisted wolves, horned lizards, chimera with mismatched limbs.
