The grand banquet hall, with its towering marble columns and glittering chandeliers, had become a battleground. The elegant tapestries that once adorned the walls now lay in tatters, scorched by spells and slashed by claws. The smell of sulfur and burnt flesh permeated the air, mingling with the ozone scent of magic. Amidst the chaos, the great families of the realm fought valiantly against the demonic horde that had invaded their celebration.
"Draven!" Lancefroz called out, his voice tinged with impatience as he held four demons at bay with his ice magic. His breath came in ragged gasps, each exhale visible in the cold air around him. "We need you now!"
