The air in the capital's subterranean labyrinth was suffocating, heavy with the stench of rot and stagnant water.
Alicia moved through the damp, filthy sewer like a phantom, her boots making absolutely no sound even as she navigated the ankle-deep grime. Her crimson eyes, sharp and unyielding, pierced through the pitch-black tunnels. She expertly bypassed the outer patrols, her mind automatically registering their rigid, disciplined formations. These were not mere street thugs or hired mercenaries. These were the scattered remnants of a dead nation's military.
Following the faint glow of mana torches, she finally reached the end of a long corridor. Before her stood a heavy red door, guarded by two heavily armored sentries.
