Chapter 278: Azazel?
"Get some sleep, Isabelle," Damien whispered to the girl dozing on his shoulder. "Tomorrow, we have a long day ahead of us."
The night passed in a tense, suffocating silence. The air of the Iron-Blood territory didn’t cool down when the black sun set; it just grew heavier, the metallic taste of ozone and rust settling deep in their lungs.
When the bruise-purple dawn finally broke over the mountains of scrap metal, they moved out.
They entered the Industrial Maze a twisting canyon formed not by rock, but by the rusted ribs of ancient, city-sized machines and towering smokestacks that belched grey ash into the sky.
Visibility was low. The mana density here was erratic, spiking and dropping like a faulty heartbeat.
"Keep your eyes up," Captain Vesper whispered to his remaining Blood Knights. His hand never left the hilt of his rapier.
"This terrain is a butcher’s block. Perfect for an ambush."
Damien walked in the center of the formation, his [Sensory Intent] expanded to its limit. He ignored the physical obstacles and focused on the intent.
Hunger. Rage. Fanaticism.
It was everywhere. It was seeping out of the walls of scrap metal around them.
"Stop," Damien said sharply.
"Baron?" Vesper paused. "Did you find another mine?"