Griffin Fortress stood on the banks of the Dragonspine River.
Covering nearly six thousand square meters, and with many of its guards living year-round within the fortress itself and its attached camps, the towering stone walls enclosed guard barracks, stables, a blacksmith's workshop, granaries, and even a small temple where believers could offer their daily prayers.
The main tower at its highest point stood nearly thirty meters above the ground, almost the equivalent of a ten-story building.
The corner towers around it not only had sentries standing watch day and night, but also dedicated towers for the griffins to roost, take off, and land.
The griffin riders who periodically soared from the tower tops and flew to patrol various parts of the dock district wove a web of vigilance that turned any thought of infiltrating from the air into a death wish.
Its location was unusual as well.
Viewed from the side, nearly half the fortress seemed to float above the rushing waters of the Dragonspine River—though in truth, the entire fortress had been built against a small peninsula jutting into the middle of the river.
Finding that archive room without a clue in such a massive, structurally complex three-dimensional fortress was nearly impossible.
Not to mention that, as a fortress, it was bound to contain all kinds of magical warning wards.
If they infiltrated rashly, they would probably trigger an alarm before even getting their bearings in the corridors, then be captured alive by the guards who came running.
Remembering how Ulag had just thumped his chest and claimed he knew the way, He Xi felt he had underestimated a dwarf's sense of direction.
Ulag: "The archive room? I could feel my way there with my eyes shut!"
"Slip in through that side gate that reeks of horse shit,