The journey continued beneath a gray, heavy sky.
The trail of devastation was an infallible guide, a deep scar in the land that seemed to bleed misery.
As they moved away from the mountains and entered the true lowlands, the air grew thicker, laden with a sweet and rotten smell of mass death. Kyrian could also feel a heavy and oppressive spiritual energy even from afar.
Kyrian had prepared himself for a long search, to scour the region in search of a subtle anomaly, a hidden lair, or a corrupted beast that commanded the others.
But reality, when he finally caught sight of it, was so colossal and obvious that it dispensed with any need for searching.
On the horizon, where the flat and verdant landscape of the lowlands should once have been, there rose a monstrosity.
It was a tree. Or what remained of one, transformed into something far beyond.
