The moment Silas stepped through the gate, the air suddenly shifted.
It was the senile scent of the city smog. Here, it was sharp with sap and coppery tang of something which was rotting.
He blinked a few times. The dungeon unfolded before him like a forgotten pocket of wilderness, lush green under an artificial sky, trees large and thick, rising like ancient guardians.
Ferns sprawled across the forest floor, and vines crept along the tree trunks like veins do under the dead skin. Area was covered by the faint mist, which whispered the promises of death and secrets.
"So this is an E-rank gate..." he muttered to himself.
It looked peaceful, but he knew better.
The space itself was limited—only about 500 meters in radius. A dome of mana pulsed above the tree canopy, like the ceiling of a sealed world.
The sunlight here was dim, filtered unnaturally, casting long shadows even though it was midday outside.
Silas tightened his fists and inhaled deeply and let it out.
