The sun had long dipped below the horizon by the time Cruzer reached the entrance to the ancient catacombs. The air was thick with the scent of moss and decay, and the only light came from the faint glow of the moon, casting eerie shadows on the stone entrance.
Cruzer paused for a moment, adjusting his grip on the hilt of his sword, the silver gleaming faintly in the darkness.
The ancient carvings that adorned the entrance seemed to dance in the dim light, depicting battles long past, their secrets buried within these cursed halls.
"This is it," he muttered to himself, steeling his resolve. Excitement bubbled beneath his calm exterior—this was his chance to grow stronger.
The entrance to the catacombs loomed before him like a gaping maw, ready to swallow him whole. He had faced danger before, but this felt different.
