The air in the guardian's domain shifted as Pyris and his companions stepped into the arena. Darkness oozed from every corner, the atmosphere so thick it felt as though even the bravest of hearts would falter. Lava-like steam hissed from cracks in the ground, glowing faintly beneath their feet, casting eerie shadows that danced along the obsidian walls. The arena was alive, pulsating with a sinister energy that threatened to crush anyone unworthy.
A deathly silence blanketed the area, broken only by the faint, rhythmic hum of the guardian's energy.
The guardian stirred, its golden eyes snapping open as it regarded Pyris with an unsettling calmness. Slowly, it rose to its feet, gripping the hilt of its sword. It didn't speak but struck its sword into the ground with an effortless strength that made the ground tremble. The earth heaved, and within moments, the terrain reshaped itself.
