The chamber was vast, far larger than any dungeon floor they had encountered before. Its ceiling disappeared into a mist of darkness, and shards of black ice littered the floor. Bones—both massive and minute—protruded from the walls and jutted up like jagged teeth from the ground. The air was thick with corruption, making each breath heavy and pungent.
Shellia held her staff tight, heart hammering. Orryn had already evolved, its form now towering over her with frost gathering like a living armor around its massive body. Its eyes glimmered with determination—or maybe amusement at Shellia's constant exclamations.
[Shellia… focus. I can sense its weak points. Let me guide you.] — Orryn's voice resonated in her mind, calm yet commanding.
Orielle hovered to Shellia's left, flames licking from her palms. [Prepare for simultaneous attack. I will support from the flank.]
