The heavy iron floor of the elevator hit the bottom of the shaft with a bone-jarring thud. Vane was the first out. He held his star-steel spear in a neutral guard. The transition from the mist of the surface to the dry, stale air of the Great Caverns was immediate. There was no mana-vacuum here. Instead, there was a dark, sprawling expanse of black rock and ancient stalactites. The air tasted of dust and wet limestone. It was a sharp contrast to the spice of the villa they had left behind.
The sounds of the other two hundred and forty-nine squads were already echoing through the tunnels. It was a cacophony of shouting, heavy boots, and the frantic chanting of opening spells. The riot had begun the moment the doors opened. For many of the students, the fear of missing out on the fifty keys was stronger than their training. They were running blindly into the dark. Their mana flared like torches in a windstorm.
