For ordinary people, the congestion might have been insurmountable.
But for Owen and his companions, it was a trivial matter.
With just a few leaps, they had already descended into the mine.
The entrance was narrow, only about the width of two doors, tucked under the mountainside and easily missed if not carefully sought.
A row of houses was built next to the mine.
Clearly, these were not for the miners to sleep in the mine, but for their rest during shifts.
Now, these single-story buildings stood empty.
Owen noticed a low wall with bloody paw prints on it, as if the creature had only three fingers.
"This thing's claws are very sharp, and they're its weapons for attack," Jiplin observed.
"They?" Owen picked up on the key point.
"You don't know?" Jiplin looked at Owen as if he were an oddity but said no more.
As soon as they entered the mine, they were competitors.
