The next day, we climbed up the hill, shadows lengthening as we moved. Demon Hounds lunged at us sporadically, their attacks fierce but few in number, and we dispatched them swiftly. The one leading us, the captain, took the front as always.
We were heading toward the nearly demolished mansion, its presence radiating an intense demonic essence. It wasn't just a faint hint of malevolence; the dark aura was so potent it swirled around us like a churning storm cloud, suffocating in its intensity. Whatever lay inside was clearly something to dread.
"Alright, we're almost there," the commander said, her voice steady despite the oppressive atmosphere.
We pushed on, the demonic essence thickening with every step. Strangely, apart from the captain and me, none of the others seemed to sense the dense, suffocating aura that clung to us like a second skin.
