The descent into the canyon felt like a march into another world.
Rondan followed Leina down a winding stone staircase carved into the cliffside, the steps narrow and slick with moisture. The roar of the crowd above was gone now—swallowed by the low hum that seemed to seep from the black obelisks below.
The air thickened as they neared the bottom. A metallic taste clung to his tongue, and the mark on his arm beat like a second heart.
They reached the final step and stepped onto the streets of the hidden city. The ground here was paved with black stone, polished smooth yet etched with faint runes that glimmered when touched by the red lantern light.
"Keep your head down," Leina whispered. "Eyes here are sharper than blades."
Rondan scanned the streets. Hooded figures drifted through the alleys, their faces hidden behind bone-like masks. Merchants sold strange wares—vials of glowing liquid, talons still slick with blood, shards of crystal that whispered faint voices.
But then the hum stopped.
Every masked figure froze and turned toward a single street at the far end of the plaza. The crowd parted without a word.
From the shadows emerged a towering man clad in obsidian armor, his helm shaped like the head of a beast. His eyes burned with a dull crimson light, and a massive halberd rested across his shoulders.
Leina's voice was barely audible. "The First Gatekeeper."
The Gatekeeper stopped in the center of the plaza. His gaze found Rondan instantly, as if no one else existed.
"You bear the mark," the armored giant said, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated in Rondan's bones. "By the law of the Gates, you will be tested."
Without warning, the Gatekeeper's halberd slammed into the ground. The plaza cracked, and a shockwave ripped outward, throwing dust and shards of stone into the air.
Rondan drew his blade, the steel catching the glow of the obelisks. His crimson eyes locked on the giant's burning gaze.
Leina stepped back into the shadows. "This isn't an arena fight, Rondan… This is survival."
The Gatekeeper lunged.