The Crimson Warden turned her head slightly, her molten gaze flicking to Flonda. "This is my domain. A place where the unworthy are forged into strength—or burned away entirely."
Voldrak surveyed the fortress, his expression unreadable. "It suits you," he said, his tone as sharp as ever. "Imposing, hostile, and full of hidden dangers."
The Warden smirked. "I'll take that as a compliment, Dark One. But tread carefully here. This land responds to my will, and I won't hesitate to test you further if the need arises."
Flonda's fingers brushed the hilt of her spear, tension rippling through her. "I'd like to see you try."
"Enough," Voldrak said, his voice cutting through the simmering hostility. He stepped forward, his dark rod glowing faintly in the heat of the domain. "We didn't come here to trade threats. You said you'd show us something worth our time. Where is it?"
