The chamber was quiet now, yet the air still shimmered with leftover heat. Faint trails of ember dust drifted toward the ceiling, vanishing into the cracks above.
Rondan leaned against the wall, gripping his scorched dagger. "If that thing was only guarding a single link…" He glanced toward the unbroken runes. "…what in the Abyss guards the Heart itself?"
Leina didn't answer immediately. She was staring at the shattered section of the circle, her lips pressed in a thin line. "The Guardian wasn't truly alive. It was a fragment—an echo—drawn from the Heart's own fire. Whatever lies ahead will not be so easily bound by stone and sigils."
A low tremor rolled through the ground. Dust drifted down from the ceiling, and somewhere in the distance, a heavy chain clattered.
"We need to move. Now," Leina said, her voice taut.
They slipped into a narrow tunnel that wound deeper beneath the arena. Here, the torchlight gave way to a strange glow—soft, wavering, and golden-red, like sunset seen through water. The walls were covered in fine soot, and the air grew thicker with every step.
The passage widened into a cavernous hall. At its center stood a towering structure of black iron, forged into a cage of intricate spirals. Inside, barely visible through the swirling heat, was a pulsing orb of pure flame—the Heart of Ash.
Rondan felt its presence like a weight pressing into his mind. Whispers coiled around his thoughts, promising strength, glory, and an end to every weakness he had ever known.
Leina's hand snapped up in warning. "Don't listen to it."
"It's… calling to me," he muttered.
Before she could speak, a sound echoed from the shadows—metal boots striking stone. Two figures emerged, clad in armor the color of burned steel, their faces hidden behind masks engraved with the same ancient rune he had seen before.
One spoke, voice muffled but filled with authority. "You've stepped too far, Northern dog. The Heart is not yours to touch."
The other drew a blade that shimmered like molten glass. "The trials were never for your victory. They were for your culling."
Rondan tightened his grip on his dagger. "Then you'll have to try harder to kill me."
The masked warriors stepped forward in perfect unison. Behind them, the Heart's glow flared brighter—almost as if it was watching.
The real battle had just begun.