Unlike the outside world, the pitch-black dungeon was far more chaotic and eerie.
After his leg was seized without warning, Zephyr struggled to break free as his body was dragged through turbulent currents.
For a brief, short moment, he felt himself slipping through a cold, disorienting layer.
It made his head spin, and he realized he had been dragged into the dungeon portal by the slimy, wriggling thing coiled around his leg. It was probably... a big tentacle?
He concluded.
Yet amidst the pain and struggle, his goal wasn't to save himself—it was to pinpoint the exact direction of Lucien's screaming voice. His eyes grew colder with fury with each passing moment as he struggled to break free, only to fail again and again.
In his desperation, Zephyr even started thrashing and clawing at the thing coiled around his leg, each movement frantic.
The damp, unpleasant air of the dungeon slammed against his face, carrying a faint, foul stench that made his stomach churn.
