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William and his undead serpents moved cautiously through the dense forest, the sunlight filtering through the thick canopy above. The tranquility of the forest was deceptive, hiding the dangers that lay in wait. He could sense the dungeon’s magic everywhere, warping the natural environment into something more sinister.

The path they followed was narrow and winding, barely discernible through the underbrush. William’s senses were on high alert, every rustle of leaves and snap of a twig putting him on edge. The forest felt alive, watching their every move with unseen eyes.

As they walked, William noticed strange symbols carved into the trees. They were similar to the ones he had seen in the earlier parts of the dungeon, ancient runes that pulsed with a faint, magical glow. He studied them closely, trying to decipher their meaning. They seemed to form a pattern, a trail leading deeper into the forest.

“We must be on the right track,” he murmured to himself. “These runes are guiding us.”