The stone corridor narrowed as Shellia and her companions pressed deeper into the church's hidden sanctum. The air grew heavier, thick with corruption, until even breathing felt like swallowing smoke. Shadows clung to the walls like oil, writhing as though alive.
["This place reeks worse than a diamond dungeon,"] Orryn muttered in Shellia's mind, frost mist curling around his antlers. ["Be ready—something's waiting."]
The three tame beasts padded closer, claws scratching stone. Kaelin's sharp eyes narrowed, tail swishing warily, while Veyra's skeletal form gave off a faint, eerie glow that made the corruption hesitate. Orielle floated near Shellia's shoulder, her ethereal light pulsing, while Sylas hovered at her other side, eyes pale blue, ready to heal at a moment's notice.
Isyra adjusted the silver charm at her wrist and whispered, "Lady Shellia… brace yourself. What lies beyond may not be a mere priest."
And then the chamber opened up.
