The inn was a shell of its former self, the wooden beams Alan remembered from his stay were now blackened, collapsing under the weight of the flames.
He didn't care about the build, but the presence he felt was unmistakeable, it was faint and under the building.
Whoosh
Alan didn't waste a second, he stomped his feet on the ground, pouring a wave of white flames over the burning building and those nearby, extinguishing the fire.
Then rushed through the charred door, the simple action tore the damaged wood into pieces.
Soot stuck to his boots as he made his way through the entrance, it didn't take long for him to stop, as he stood before the reception table.
The presence he sensed was coming directly under the burnt reception table, so Alan just kicked the table aside, crumbling the burnt remains.
Then paused, raising a brow with a confused expression.
"Why's this even here?" He was looking at an iron trapdoor stuck to the floor, leading to somewhere he didn't know.
