[: 3rd POV :]
The group stood in tense silence, the stale air pressing on their lungs like a suffocating blanket.
Every corner of the chamber seemed alive, the grotesque statues looming like sentinels in the half-dark, their red-carved eyes glowing faintly as if feeding on the fear of the intruders.
No one spoke, not even the bravest mercenary.
The sound of dripping blood from the middle statue echoed like a slow, maddening drumbeat.
It was then that something shifted.
The Guild Master, Arcturus, who had until now guided them with a steady calm, stopped in front of the altar.
His presence seemed to stretch, filling the room, and the atmosphere thickened like tar.
A wave of unseen pressure washed over them—heavy, suffocating, almost choking—and everyone felt the hairs on their arms rise.
Daniel's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
'This… aura. It's different'
Arcturus clasped his hands behind his back and turned toward the group.
