"Matron, where should we head next?" Lynch’s voice echoed from the dust-filled hall’s center.
Batana watched the events unfold before her in disbelief. What kind of spell could produce such an effect? She considered herself quite skilled in magic, having faced many mages in her life, yet she had never seen such destruction from a single spell. And it seed that this human mage said little more than "Magic power..." without any incantation in the usual sense! What was happening?
The most surprising thing was that she hadn’t even used a petrification magic, just a blinding technique that looked similar. Yet, the mage had approached the illusion without any additional protection and directly confronted the petrifying ray! How did he do that? Could he be carrying an item that protects against petrification? But how did he know petrification could appear here?
The Matron began to suspect that this human mage must have obtained the research notes that the fleeing Kobold had taken, containing a map and trap layout of the entire Limb Temple. This damned human! He hid his abilities so well. But how long did he think he could keep it up?
With these thoughts, Matron Batana stepped in front of Lynch. She suddenly brandished her weapon, a short staff that lengthened in her hand until it matched the length of a powerful wand wielded by a mage. However, her staff was entwined with living venomous snakes—not real snakes, but more like spiritual entities attached to her weapon. The snakes hissed threateningly at the mage before them, tongues flicking out.
Lynch kept his head lowered, avoiding direct eye contact with the Matron, but the mage’s Eye of Insight never stopped observing this Dark Elf woman’s movents. It was clear that the Matron was hesitating, unsure whether to kill the mage outright. In the end, she refrained. "Perhaps she thinks I still have so other use as a pawn," Lynch mused inwardly.
Batana rhythmically tapped the ground with her staff, and with each "thud," a character-like glow briefly appeared on the floor. Lynch took a few steps back, watching the murmuring female Drow, ntally recording every detail of this "ritual." The characters on the ground shimred ever faster, eventually becoming a continuous illumination.
A stairway downward appeared beside the Matron. Even the Eye of Insight hadn’t spotted this staircase earlier, suggesting it wasn’t a naturally carved chanism but rather connected to so kind of magic ability. The Matron led the way into the room, followed closely by the Dark Elf retinue.
A nauseating sll of decay wafted from the descending passage, reminiscent of the stench of corpses from an ancient tomb. Lynch covered his nose, imagining the fragrance of flowers and fresh grass on the ground, envisioning the earthy scent of early sumr to subdue the tornt on his senses.
Matron Batana and the Dark Elves seed oblivious to the stench, rely frowning as they marched down in unison.
"Perhaps they’ve encountered even fouler slls in their lives," Lynch thought to himself.
The path to the final secret chamber was coated with dust, and the walls were draped in cobwebs. As the Dark Elves passed, a breeze stirred the cobwebs, shaking off much dust. The place was eerily silent, with only the sound of so heartbeats—the heartbeats of the Dark Elves, intermingled with the sound of dust falling. The Matron frowned, gazing at the road ahead. In the thick dust where the group was headed, a few sets of footprints led forward in a hurry, freshly made.
With a wave of her hand, the Matron traced a circle in the air with her staff, and all the Dark Elves drew their weapons. Consistent with their secretive nature, the Drow unsheathed their weapons without a sound. Lynch turned to see a group of ard and nacing "Dark n," which astonished him greatly.
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