Chapter 320: They didn’t block me?
Outside the Tiered Gate of the first floor of the dungeon connected to the Verdant Ravine in Sylvanwood...
The land was cracked and lifeless, scorched black and gray, with molten lava flowing like veins through the earth. A dungeon entrance—one of the few gateways to the surface world—stood silently in the middle of this desolate wasteland. The air was still, save for the howling wind that tore across the barren ground. Nothing else stirred.
But not far from that gate, hidden in the shadows of a jagged rock formation, something massive lurked.
A hulking beast, its entire body a deep, venomous purple, crouched low in the darkness. Its eyes—furious, bloodshot, and gleaming with toxic malice—were locked on the dungeon entrance. It hadn’t moved in hours.
It looked like a statue, frozen in time. But the rage simmering in its eyes betrayed the truth.
And then, after nearly a full day and night of stillness, the creature finally shifted. As if it could no longer hold back, it crept forward, inching out of the shadows toward the gate. But even then, it hesitated—its massive claws digging into the scorched earth, its wings twitching with unease.
A closer look revealed the beast’s identity: none other than Drexon, the Venomspike Manticore—former dungeon lord and one of the few who had escaped the massacre at the Firebird’s roost.
"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it all..."
His voice was a low, guttural snarl, barely more than a whisper, as if he was terrified someone might hear him.
"Those bastards... Why the hell did they show up out of nowhere? If it weren’t for them, we would’ve already taken that damn Firebird’s nest! We were so close... so fucking close!"
Drexon’s face twisted with fury, his fangs bared, his tail lashing behind him like a whip. But even in his rage, he kept his voice down—paranoia etched into every movement.