The next day, Ian entered the Rift again.
His appearance remained unchanged, but he had suppressed his aura to the upper limit of level five.
Ian looked around and chose to explore in the direction opposite the basin.
A narrow path crossed the wasteland, almost swallowed by grass and paved with dark black stones.
Half-height bone markers stood on either side, carved with runes Ian could not read.
After a few steps, Ian noticed the remains of several Low-Level Demons scattered beside the road.
They had dried out, their bones picked clean. Beside some of them, marks of a struggle remained.
Ian followed the path for a while. In the distance, the outlines of tall buildings rose at the edge of the wasteland.
Living creatures began to appear along the road. Three small, gray-skinned demons crouched at the roadside, gnawing on a chunk of unidentifiable meat.
When they saw Ian approach, all three raised their heads, wariness flashing in their eyes.
Ian glanced at them. They were only Mid-Level Demons, cannon fodder even on the Second Layer. They would have even less standing here.
He ignored them and kept walking.
The three gray-skinned demons watched him go and exchanged glances, but none followed.
The aura of a level-five commander made them instinctively keep their distance.
After about fifteen minutes, more figures appeared across the wasteland.
A group of Darkwing Demons flew overhead. They were a size larger than those on the Second Layer, with a dark violet glow along the edges of their wings.
On the ground, a group of slender Many-Legged Demons moved in two columns along the stone road, all heading the same way.
Their upper bodies resembled humans, while their lower bodies were insectoid. Dozens of jointed legs rustled across the ground in unison.
Many-Legged Demons were