Closing in on the Royal Palace

The air deep within the Stone Basin grew increasingly stifling, heavy with the smell of blood and dampness. Both sides of the rock walls were covered in scratches and acid-corrosion marks, a horrifying sight. The soil beneath their feet was thick and sticky, mixed with chunks of corpses and carapaces left behind by yesterday's battle. It made wet, squelching sounds beneath their boots. The Hunters pressed deeper step by step, their strides heavy, but no one retreated.

Chairman Netero walked at the very front, his back unusually distinct in the dim light. The old man's pace seemed slow, yet every step was incomparably steady, as if he were treading upon the pulse of the earth. Morel and Knov followed closely behind him, smoke and portals ready to unfold at any moment. Morel clenched his pipe between his teeth, his expression colder than ever as white smoke churned around his feet like a heavy barrier. Knov gritted his teeth, fine beads of sweat covering his brow. His fingertips trembled faintly, but he still held himself together. They all understood that the deeper they went, the closer the danger became.

Icarus and Palm were positioned in the middle of the assault team. Icarus held Palm's notebook open in his hands, his gaze hard as he constantly compared the terrain with the traces left behind yesterday. His voice was quiet, but it echoed clearly through the narrow passage. "The traces are still here. That means the enemy didn't deliberately erase them. They're far too confident."

Palm hugged her notebook tightly, her palms drenched in cold sweat. Her fingers were stiff and her knuckles white, yet her pen continued to move steadily, swiftly recording everything before her. She had nearly slipped up in battle yesterday, but the moment she thought of the value of