Derrick stepped through the barrier, and the world immediately felt like it was pressing in on him.
The air was a thick soup of decay and ozone, the kind of smell that stuck to the back of your throat and refused to leave.
Once again, Derrick's system was doing it's best to block out the smell.
He didn't hesitate. His dragon eyes flared to life, allowing him to see several layers beyond normal.
A shallow grunt came from beside Derrick, and goosebumps filled Derrick's hands.
A pack of Shadow Wolves lunged from the tall, gray grass.
They were low-level, the type of beasts that relied on numbers rather than strength. To the old Derrick, this would have been a struggle. To the current Derrick, it was a chore.
Derrick moved like a blur, his movements ever refined and fluid thanks to the kata he had been training.
Nullspire whistled through the air, bisecting the four wolves before they even touched the ground.
