Only Six

In the depths of the labyrinth, where daylight had never dared venture, a massive figure moved with calculated slowness. Each step made the ground tremble, and its red eyes, burning like flames, pierced the darkness. Its ebony-black skin, crisscrossed with scars, told the story of countless battles endured. Twisted horns curved backward from its head, and every motion of its imposing musculature betrayed a raw, almost animalistic power.

Xarath, the Massacrer. The Executioner of the Awakened.

In a great hall carved directly into the rock, he stood motionless, towering over a group of subordinates. Smaller than him, they cowered beneath his gaze, their wings folded and their eyes full of fear mingled with reverence.

A low rumble rose from his throat, echoing off the dark walls. Then, a deep and cruel laugh filled the cavern.