The Abyssal Monarch Awakens

Liria stood before the towering stone doors, each carved with twisted, serpentine shapes that coiled and spiraled toward a single, ominous eye in the center. The eye wasn't just a carving—it blinked. A faint, liquid shimmer passed over the surface like a living thing, tracking her every move. The stone beneath her boots was cold, slick with a thin layer of mist that curled around her ankles like whispering phantoms.

Her heart thrummed in her chest.

"Alright," she whispered to herself, adjusting her grip on her sword. The metal felt heavier than usual, as though it, too, sensed what lay beyond the door. The Shadowflare Blade pulsed faintly with its dark energy, the black flames curling along its surface like restless snakes.

[Feeling nervous?]

"Not even slightly," she lied.

[Sure. That tremble in your left hand is definitely confidence.]

"Shut up," she muttered, forcing her fingers to tighten around the hilt.