An Understated Dominance Novel (Dahlia & Dustin) by Marina Vittori updated 2025-26 - An Understated Dominance Chapter 2672

Chapter 2672

The towering bronze gate loomed before them—majestic, ancient, and silent. What lay beyond it might be the legendary Hanging Garden… or a deeper, deadlier trap.

The dark golden vines that wrapped around the door’s cracks appeared withered, yet when touched, they felt like cold metal—unyielding and almost alive.

A faint glow pulsed beneath the cloud-seal talisman carved into the gate, weaving an ancient and powerful enchantment. Breaking it by force wasn’t just difficult—it could trigger unpredictable consequences.

Logan spent several moments probing the seal with his divine sense before finally withdrawing and shaking his head. “This gate’s seal is intact and connected to the earth veins. Forcing it open could cause a major backlash. There might be another entrance—or perhaps a specific key or opportunity to unlock it.”

The hope that had carried them this far wavered. The promise of discovery stood just beyond that massive gate, yet it was unreachable. Grace stared at the fog-laced fissure in the mountains ahead and said thoughtfully, “If this way is blocked for now, we should explore along the edge of this crack. Maybe we’ll find another path. The ‘Yaochi’ mentioned in the murals might be nearby.”

Logan nodded. He sensed faint but active spiritual fluctuations in that direction. With renewed caution, the group continued forward along the cliff’s edge, moving deeper into the island’s heart.

Before long, the world around them began to change.

The clear air thickened into a grayish-white mist that felt almost alive. It was dense and heavy, flowing in slow, eerie waves that muffled both sight and sound.

Even their voices distorted and faded in the haze.

More unsettling was the mist itself—it carried a strange, corrosive power. It didn’t burn the skin but seeped through the pores like countless invisible needles, silently draining their spiritual energy.

The guards’ breathing grew heavier. Their meridians clogged, their strength waned, and exhaustion seeped into their bones.

“Keep moving! Don’t stop!” the captain shouted, his voice muted by the fog. “This mist—it’s draining our energy!”

They immediately activated their internal energy, forming thin layers of protective true force around their bodies.

The air sizzled where the mist met their defenses. Though it slowed the corrosion, their energy burned away at twice the normal rate.

“Miss, I can’t… hold on much longer,” one female guard gasped, her face pale and drenched in sweat.

Grace’s cultivation was strong, but even she could feel her strength fading faster than it should. She glanced toward Logan—only to notice that the mist refused to touch him.

An invisible barrier surrounded him, repelling the fog entirely. He looked calm, untouched, as though walking through a storm without feeling the rain.

“Stay close to me,” Logan said. His voice cut clearly through the oppressive air, carrying a quiet authority that steadied their nerves.

The invisible force around him expanded, covering Grace and several nearby guards. The draining pressure lifted instantly, and they could breathe again.

“Thank you, Mr. Rhys,” one of them said, gratitude in his trembling voice.

Logan shook his head slightly, scanning the fog. “This isn’t just draining our strength—it’s suppressing spiritual perception.”

He tried extending his divine sense, but it was like pushing through mud. His awareness could barely reach a hundred feet—and even that felt distorted.

“There’s something moving in the fog,” he warned grimly.

The words sent a cold chill through everyone.

When vision and senses fail, the unknown becomes the most terrifying enemy.

Step by step, they pressed on—guided by Logan—like blind travelers feeling their way through a nightmare. The moss-slick rocks beneath their feet squelched faintly. The only sounds were their breathing and the thudding of anxious hearts.

Then—

A sharp, blood-curdling scream tore through the silence.

Everyone spun around. The fog churned violently, and one of the flank guards vanished—dragged backward by something unseen.

He didn’t even have time to shout for help. Only a dark drag mark and a few drops of blood remained, quickly absorbed into the mossy ground.

“Back to back! Defensive formation!” the captain roared.

The guards drew their blades, pressing shoulder to shoulder, sweat cold on their skin.

“What was that?” Grace demanded, her short sword gleaming faintly in the dim light.

Logan’s eyes narrowed as he focused on where the guard had disappeared. Though his divine sense was restrained, he caught a fleeting flicker of twisted, negative energy.

“It’s not a physical creature,” he said gravely. “Or at least, not entirely. It’s a fog-born demon spirit—formed from this mist’s corrosive essence and the lingering resentment of the dead. It’s formless, intangible, and feeds on the life force of the living.”

As if to prove his words, faint whispers began to echo through the fog—thousands of overlapping voices murmuring in a language that clawed at the soul. The sound made their blood boil and their hearts pound uncontrollably.

Then, out of the swirling mist, several distorted gray shadows emerged. Their shapes shifted constantly—sometimes like writhing tentacles, sometimes like screaming human faces. They emitted no sound but radiated silent malice as they lunged straight toward the group.