Cliff stood still in the center of the room, his senses alert under the oppressive pressure that surrounded him. The silence that followed the Cursed Serpent's entrance was unnatural. It weighed on him, amplifying every heartbeat, reminding him of his vulnerability. But he knew he couldn't show any weakness.
Every movement, every breath, could be interpreted as a flaw.
The abomination in human form had spoken, then blended among the elders and his acolytes, yet its piercing gaze, like invisible fangs, never left Cliff. The formal greetings resumed in whispers, while the creature slowly moved toward its seat at the back of the hall.
Renald and Kyrian, loyal companions, stood a little behind, scanning for any threats. They too felt the ever-present danger. Their weapons, although expertly handled, seemed insignificant against the forces surrounding them.
