Noah and Galahad tore through the tunnels, their footsteps pounding against the stone.
The bioluminescent glow of the walls blurred as they passed, their shadows stretching and twisting in their wake.
Behind them, the clicking of countless legs echoed, reminding them that the Bullet Spiders were still in pursuit. That if they stopped for even a moment, the only reward they would receive was death.
Every time the skittering grew louder, Noah would skid half a step, twisting his upper body to throw another Rot.
The compressed beam of decay shrieked through the air, searing across the tunnel and reducing anything it struck to dust.
The blasts were smaller now, and weaker. He was running on fumes.
Each cast made his vision dim and his head light. The mana in his veins felt sluggish, dragging at him with every step.
But they kept going. There was no stopping. No turning back.
Then, finally, it happened.
