Milo trudged through a blizzard blowing towards his directions, his eyes narrowed as a layer of frost gently coated his eyebrows. A fierce chill ran through his body as he dodged yet another projectile being launched towards him.
Behind him, Marcos continued rubbing his shoulders, the sense of regret after they abandoned their fur suits was growing each passing second. However, a new problem was beginning to arise for the ever curious and ever suspicious Marcos.
This wasn't a dungeon anymore … at least, not one that was based on recorded history.
None of the files he read during his life ever mentioned what could only be described as a duel dungeon. The terrain that they had wondered into was already bad enough, but to say that it should have had this effect on the dungeon itself was just plain false.
