The atmosphere in the ruins had changed. The oppressive air was heavier now, thicker with the remnants of the dark magic that had been stirred up by the creature's death. It wasn't just the energy from the Wraith—it was something older, deeper, something waiting.
Marcus stood at the entrance to the central chamber, his breath coming in shallow bursts as his mind processed the battle. The Wraith had been fast and vicious, but the radiant strike had done its job. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't over. There was something deeper within the heart of these ruins, something that called to him.
"What do you think that creature was guarding?" Elara asked, her voice cutting through the tense silence as she surveyed the room. Her sword, still glowing faintly, hung loosely by her side.
