Arden stepped forward, his boots splashing into a shallow pool that coated the entire floor of the boss room—a sea of dark, viscous blood that rippled with each movement.
The surface shimmered faintly under the dim light, reflecting the jagged cracks in the ceiling high above.
Through those fractures, the ominous glow of a massive reddish-black hole in the sky poured in.
The light cast a bloody hue across the chamber, bathing everything in shades of crimson and shadow.
The throne room stretched wide and long.
Broken pillars of black marble jutted from the blood-soaked floor like the ribs of some ancient beast, their surfaces scarred with claw marks and scorched streaks—evidence that many had come here, and all had failed.
Tattered banners hung limply from the walls, their faded sigils unrecognizable beneath layers of grime and decay.
The air buzzed faintly, a low vibration that set their teeth on edge, as if the mana saturating the space was alive and restless.
