That was a month after Serio had caused the blood catastrophe in the City of Wandering, sinking the moving city.
The gloomy, dark chamber was lit with candles made from refined sperm whale oil, an enchanting fragrance lingering on the ancient stone steps of indeterminate age. Arcane symbols resembling claws and fangs emitted obscure light in the corners, while several Monster Fire aloes were sealed in ice, spewing flames at the green humanoids taunting them from outside the transparent barrier, though to no avail.
"Hahaha, what a little fool," Irason said with a proud smile on her face. Her moss garment shed some pale green luminescent powder as she trembled, which was the fine pollen—inhaling too much of it could cause hallucinations. But it was clear that those present were well beyond the reach of such hallucinogenic seeds.
