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The fog became incredibly dense the moment they stepped into the demonic realm.
"Huff... Huff..." There was not a trace of leisure on Philip's face as he led the way.
"My lord. Am I going in the right direction...?" Holding his sword and shield tightly, Philip spoke without turning his head.
"Yes," Ian replied, sounding annoyed.
"How do you find your way here? Even I, a hunter, cannot discern the direction." Miguel glanced at him sideways.
"Well."
"...Is that all?"
"What, got a problem with that?"
"Of course not. It would be a thief's attitude to want to learn such a secret by mere words. Hmph…," Miguel quickly turned his gaze forward after catching Ian's look and muttered.
After all, you wouldn't be able to do it even if you learned. Ian mumbled to himself as he turned his gaze back to the dense fog. What he was looking at was the corrupted magical energy that was heavily mixed with the fog.
The patterns of magic swirling with the fog flickered like a mirage. This was a kind of marker that the tomb would be in its center. Crossing through the patterns of magic would lead them there.
How is all of this maintained? Corruption doesn't mean the magic springs infinite. A question he had never considered before naturally followed. The reason he could afford such idle thoughts was that, in truth, this forest posed no danger from fierce monsters.
It was a dead forest without even an ant. Although the forest was a labyrinth filled with contaminated magic that doomed intruders, knowing how to navigate made...
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