They moved deeper, and the dungeon threw its lesser dead at them the whole way.
A pack came at them in a long low hall, ghost-beasts of bone-light and glassy shell, eight or nine at once, pouring between the pillars from both sides.
The kind of swarm that would have been deadly a day ago. It was not deadly now.
Tenebria swept her staff in a wide arc, and her shadow spilled out across the floor like spilled ink, racing to the walls. The pack hit it at a dead run and bogged at once, every stride dragging slower the deeper they pushed.
Kenshin strode to the center and dropped into a low braced stance, shield up, and drew his blade flat across the air in front of him.
The first ghost-beast that crossed the line slammed into a sudden wall of force and rebounded, and behind him the rest of the group felt the bite leave every blow that slipped through, Held Ground bleeding the force out before it could land.
