The deeper they descended, the heavier the air became.
The tunnel widened, transitioning from a rough natural cavern into something constructed. The walls here were reinforced with rusted iron beams, and the remains of old mining carts lay overturned on the tracks, their contents long since spilled and petrified.
Leading the formation wasn't Gorran, but the Undead Bone Scorpion.
Its skeletal legs clicked rhythmically against the stone, its blue-flame eyes cutting through the gloom. It moved without hesitation, tethered to Leon's will by an invisible thread of mana.
"It doesn't breathe," Gorran muttered, watching the creature's backside with a mixture of awe and unease. "It doesn't tire. It just… walks."
"That's the point," Leon replied, keeping his eyes on the path ahead. "A soldier that doesn't eat or sleep is a logistician's dream. Though it does drain my mana to keep it active."
