Abyssal VI

When they finally emerged from the Spire, the harsh sunlight felt almost blinding. The sight of the open sky brought a collective sigh of relief, but their respite was short-lived.

Standing at the edge of the clearing was a figure clad in dark, ornate armor. His presence was suffocating, radiating an aura that felt like a concentrated shard of the Abyss itself. His crimson eyes locked onto Aiden, and a wicked smile spread across his face.

"Well, well," the man said, his voice dripping with mockery. "The little heroes managed to shatter the anchor. Impressive—futile, but impressive."

Aiden stepped forward, though his body protested every movement. "Who are you?"

The man tilted his head, as if amused by the question. "You can call me Malrik, Herald of the Abyss. And you... you're the one carrying that fascinating little seal, aren't you?"

Aiden's grip tightened on his weapon. "If you're here to take it, you'll have to go through me."