The darkness of the Thieves' Den closed around me like a heavy curtain, the dim glow of the entrance now far behind. My steps echoed lightly against the rough stone floor, the sound barely noticeable beneath the oppressive silence. The deeper I went, the thicker the tension became, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath, waiting.
I'd been here before.
In my previous life, I had explored the Path of Heroes countless times, knowing every twist and turn of these dangerous dungeons.
But that was different—then, I wasn't Eldric Valen, king of a struggling kingdom. I was simply Darius in the modern world, a gamer pushing through trials and collecting loot.
Now, with everything at stake, the familiar landscape carried a weight that hadn't been there before.
Suddenly, I stopped, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Something was off. My hand instinctively moved to the hilt of my sword. I could sense them before I saw them—the assassins.
