The Old Soul's Oath

The underground training facility was nothing short of a hidden fortress. The vast chamber was dimly lit, flickering torches lining the stone walls that towered overhead. Their orange glow provided just enough illumination to reveal the vastness of the space—a complex carved out of the earth itself. The air was damp, filled with the scent of aged stone and musk. The sound of grunts echoed through the chamber, followed by the clang of metal striking metal. The rhythmic pounding of fists hitting training dummies was matched by the crackle of summoned magic beasts, flashing in and out of existence as the summoners honed their craft.