The group finally reached the heart of the ruined temple—a vast, dimly lit chamber where an eerie altar stood at its center.
The altar was surrounded by what appeared to be the remnants of a ritual: blackened candles melted down to stubs, strange symbols drawn in blood, and a foul-smelling liquid pooling around the base.
The atmosphere was thick with the acrid stench of dark magic, making it difficult to breathe.
Carol wrinkled her nose and grimaced.
"What is this place? Were they preparing for a ritual, or…?"
Auriel shook her head, her golden eyes narrowing as she scanned the altar and the runes etched into the floor.
"No. This isn't the preparation stage. The ritual has already been completed"
She said firmly, her voice echoing in the chamber"
Carol turned to Auriel, alarmed.
"What? Are you saying—"
