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... a wet cloth. His Abyssal Fang Dagger hummed in his grip, its edge glinting faintly. The primal energy in the tunnel buzzed against his skin, tugging at his Devour Essence skill.

"Absorb it. Grow stronger," a voice whispered in his mind.

He gritted his teeth. "Not now," he muttered, shoving the urge down. Cultivating here was suicide. It was too exposed and filled with many unknowns.

The tunnel sloped deeper, the air chilling. His silver eyes flicked to the walls—there wer ...

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