Far away from Lyerin, deep within the labyrinthine dungeon, a young assassin reveled in the chaos of battle. His name was Lucius, and he thrived on the adrenaline rushing through his veins.
His black dragon-design dagger gleamed as he licked its blade with a disturbing, almost unhinged glee.
Blood dripped from its tip, a sign of his previous kills, but the fight was far from over. He craved more—needed more. Every victory made his blood sing louder, and his excitement only grew the more dangerous his enemies became.
Lucius crouched on a stone ledge, eyeing his next target.
Below him stood three massive creatures, towering in the eerie light of the dungeon. Each one was a colossal beast, bristling with power.
The first resembled a humanoid mountain sheep, its muscular body covered in thick, slate-grey fur, with massive curled horns spiraling from its head. Its fiery yellow eyes scanned the area warily, clearly on guard.
