Inside an Adventurer's Tavern in the Royal Capital of the Duchy of Lekots, Velin carefully compared the three maps Kyle had bought.
Watching him, Aymond felt a little wistful. Compared to the rest of them, Velin seemed far more like an adventurer.
Xuemiyya, Kyle, and Odor, meanwhile, were already used to it.
After all, only those who had been cheated knew that no amount of care was excessive when checking a map's authenticity.
Ten minutes later, Velin set down the three maps, looked up at Kyle, and said, "Some of the details differ, but the general direction is consistent. They should be genuine."
"Still, we can't rule out the possibility that all three are fake."
"I've already made a note of the people selling them. As long as they're in the Royal Capital of Lekots, they won't get away."
"Then let's go."
After paying for their drinks, everyone left the Adventurer's Tavern and headed northwest toward the buffer zone.
Beneath Dragon Hammer City, home to the Dragon Hammer Lizardman Clan, lay an enormous space steeped in the stench of blood.
Torches cast flickering light over the damp rock walls, illuminating the passage that wound downward.
Rank after rank of kobolds and goblins were driven into the underground space by spear-wielding lizardman soldiers, then crammed into caves.
At the center of the cavern, an enormous altar stretched outward, a thousand meters in diameter.
Every stone in the altar was soaked in dark brown, crusted blood, and its cracks were filled with bloody filth.
An intangible resentment powerful enough to sting the soul hovered above the altar, warping the space into a haze that blurred the vision.
Faint wails seeped from the gaps between the stones, their ceaseless murmurs burrowing into the ears and hearts of every living creature.
At each of