They were already on Floor 15.
The descent through the upper levels of the Abyssal Spire had been a dark, damp, and utterly miserable march. Just as Gorn had predicted, the first dozen floors had barely anything to offer. The levels had been thoroughly looted by vanguard parties weeks ago. Aside from a few cheap iron weapons, glowing moss, and low-tier beast core respawns, there was nothing of real value.
The Iron Wolves were down to three men. After Vane was turned into human mincemeat by a mid-air spike trap on the first floor, the atmosphere had turned incredibly tense.
Gorn marched at the front, his massive greatsword resting on his shoulder. His thick steel armour was covered in dirt and dried blood. Behind him walked his two remaining men, Pike and Rurik, both looking highly paranoid, their eyes darting at every shadow.
