Chapter 68: Marcus and Cynthia (2)
As they continued deeper into the cave, the path sloped steadily downward, narrowing slightly as moisture slicked the jagged stone beneath their boots. The air was growing colder, damper—each breath fogged slightly as it left their lips. One wrong step and a person could tumble several meters down the incline, bones bouncing off unkind rock.
Then, without warning, the earth gave a sudden violent lurch.
A tremor surged through the cave like a ripple of pure force, shaking the walls and sending dust cascading from above. The floor trembled beneath them with a low, ominous groan that echoed through the darkness like some beast rousing from slumber.
A faint voice—muffled yet sharp—rang out through the stone corridors, amplified strangely by the cave’s acoustics.
’Shatter Fist!’
Marcus’s eyes widened, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as recognition struck. Connor, he thought immediately, recalling the explosive brawl they had shared against the Wolf Lord during the Forest Trials. Of course he’d shout his spell like a maniac...
Behind him, Cynthia staggered.
Her foot skidded on a loose patch of gravel, and with a small gasp, she began to lose balance—clearly unused to navigating such rough terrain, especially when the ground itself refused to stay still.
Without hesitation, Marcus turned, reaching out instinctively. His arms wrapped around her mid-fall, catching her just before she could collapse against the sharp stone. Their bodies pressed close for a moment as the tremors continued, stronger now.
"Careful," Marcus said, his voice low but steady. "Hold me tight."
He maneuvered quickly toward a flatter ledge, guiding her toward it with firm steps despite the unstable ground.