In a dark place, only the light of few torches could be seen.
Five thrones sat in a perfect circle, radiating an oppressive aura that whispered of power and ancient dominance.
No mortal soul would dare linger next to these thrones, for the weight of the ancient dominion was suffocating.
A throne with smoldering obsidian, veins of molten gold tracing its jagged contours. It exuded the oppressive heat of a thousand infernos, a promise of karmic retribution carved in smoking stone.
Next to it, a throne of wrought iron, twisted and barbed like a tortured demon's scream, awaited the Blood Countess.
Each spike dripped with garnet hues, a macabre tribute to the lives sacrificed to make this throne. This throne sang of battles and frenzied slaughter, a symphony of screams echoing from its cold embrace.
The third one was a throne carved from jade so slick it seemed to ooze venomous emerald light pulsed with a sickly rhythm.
