Bab 95: Dragon Blood(3)

At the outskirts of Desmond's residence, shrouded by the expanse of grasslands, a young man stood watch, his magenta eyes narrowing as he meticulously surveilled the property. His gaze swept methodically from the apex of the house to its foundation, beads of cold sweat trickling down his temples.

"Thank the heavens..." Desmond exhaled a sigh of relief, his eyes glancing over his still intact abode, with its roof and windows intact. He observed the earthy structure that had once obstructed the dungeon, now transformed into a quagmire.

The remnants of branches, leaves, and shattered bricks littered the ground, remnants of the upheaval.

"But this can be rectified," he muttered, taking a step back. Uttering an incantation, the mire gradually yielded, returning to its mundane state.