The atmosphere was heavy, almost oppressive, as if the very walls were soaked with the dark energy that Maverick had wielded.
The interior of the hut was much larger than it appeared from the outside, a testament to the dark mage's mastery of spatial manipulation.
Dimly lit by flickering candles, the room was filled with shelves upon shelves of ancient tomes, scrolls, and vials containing mysterious liquids. Strange symbols were etched into the walls, and an assortment of bizarre artifacts cluttered the space.
The air was thick with the scent of old parchment, mingling with the faint stench of decay.
Ayame moved cautiously, her eyes scanning the room for anything that might hint at the secrets Maverick had hidden away. But before they could start rummaging through the piles of books and scrolls, Bianca hesitated.
"Weiss," Bianca called out, her voice tinged with concern, "are we sure it's safe to go through this stuff? What if Maverick left traps?"
