The land trembled beneath Elaris, and the skies cracked open with thunder as Khorath, the dark god, manifested in the heart of the village. His towering form was shrouded in an otherworldly aura, a swirling vortex of shadow and flame. His eyes, glowing like molten gold, seemed to pierce the very soul of anyone who dared to meet his gaze. The air was thick with the power of his presence, and the world itself seemed to bend and shudder as if recoiling from the sheer weight of his existence.
Elya stood at the forefront, her heart hammering in her chest. She had fought in countless battles, led armies, and stared death in the face more times than she cared to count. But nothing, nothing, could have prepared her for this. The dark god was not a mere enemy to be defeated. He was a force of nature, a primordial being whose very existence threatened to unmake everything she had fought for.