The air inside the Hollow Vein was heavy, thick with the smell of iron and rot. The walls of the cavern pulsed faintly, as if the stone itself was alive, veins of red light crawling through the cracks. Every sound was swallowed quickly, leaving only the echo of his own footsteps.
Asher held the Blood Rose Scythe loosely at his side. Its edge gleamed faintly in the dark, humming with hunger. He walked without caution, his eyes sharp, waiting for the first thing foolish enough to cross him.
It didn't take long.
From the deeper tunnels, shadows stirred. Shapes crawled out of the mist—twisted creatures made of blood and bone. Their limbs bent the wrong way, eyes glowing faintly as they hissed and shrieked. They rushed at him in a wave, claws outstretched.
Asher didn't move until they were almost on top of him. Then the scythe flashed.
