The air in the chamber was heavy, not from battle, but from the swirling questions and uncertainty that followed. The group sat in a circle, their expressions grave, each nursing their thoughts while Pyris paced restlessly.
Alera rested nearby, her breathing steady but her face pale, her battle with the guardian having left its toll.
Zara and Seren whispered faintly as they tended to her, though their attention often flickered to Pyris and the monolithic guardian still standing motionless in the center of the chamber. Its presence was a silent challenge, its aura of divine mana continuing to ripple ominously.
Pyris stopped pacing, his eyes locking onto the guardian. It was still, almost deceptively calm, but its presence screamed of power.
That aura—it wasn't mortal, not even close. The sheer potency of its mana spoke volumes, and Pyris couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this particular divine ascension than met the eye.
