More than a hundred years ago, Dragon Cliff Dungeon.
As the most resource-rich dungeon in the Empire, batches of Demon Race Adventurers traveled down the ropes every day, crossed that inverted pit, and entered it.
Dragons did indeed dwell above Dragon Cliff, but dragons were hardly diligent creatures.
As long as their Kobold servants offered food on time, most dragons were too lazy to leave their nests. Even if they came out to stretch their limbs, they would only circle near Dragon Cliff or pick a fight with another dragon.
Even when a dragon was in the mood to hunt personally, it generally would not head toward the dungeon entrance.
After all, the Dragon Beast packs near the entrance had long since been hunted to pieces by Adventurers. As for the Adventurers themselves, they were not even enough to get stuck between a dragon's teeth. Flying over there would be all effort and no reward.
Therefore, the death rate for adventuring in Dragon Cliff was not actually that high.
Of course, conversely, if one was truly unlucky enough to run into a dragon, the hope of escape was pitifully slim.
At this moment, near the entrance of the deep pit, a group of Blood Scions whose robes were embroidered with the Vesalius family crest separated the Adventurers coming and going.
In the midst of the Blood Scions, Vesalius's deputy, Ern, was accompanying a human.
Naturally, this drew many Adventurers' eyes, but no one dared step forward to ask what was going on.
"Master, thanks to you, this Blood Kin Banquet was held with perfect success," Ern said, bowing slightly. "Before my lord left, he specifically instructed me to satisfy the requests of an artistic master such as yourself as much as possible."
"It's just—" Ern looked troubled and confirmed in