Chapter 323
The Crimson Ruins loomed around them, an eerie silence settling in as Elyra and Dain ventured deeper into the ancient structure. The shadows grew thicker, pressing in from every side, as if the very walls were watching them, waiting for them to make their next move. The shard pulsed in Elyra’s hand, a steady rhythm that felt both comforting and unsettling.
“Do you feel it?” Elyra asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. The oppressive energy in the air was palpable, making it hard to breathe. It was like the ruins themselves were alive, breathing with them.
Dain didn’t answer right away. His gaze was fixed ahead, where the path ahead forked into two directions. One led toward a grand doorway, carved with symbols she didn’t recognize. The other wound down into a shadowy corridor. His grip on the darkness around him seemed to grow stronger with every step they took.
“I feel it,” he muttered finally. “This place… it’s not just cursed. It’s a prison.”
They moved toward the grand doorway. The closer they got, the colder it became, as if the temperature itself was dropping under the weight of unseen forces. As they stepped into the chamber beyond the doorway, the temperature seemed to plummet further. The walls of the chamber were adorned with intricate carvings, glowing faintly with the same ominous red light. The ceiling arched high above them, disappearing into darkness.
In the center of the room, a large, crystalline structure stood. The shard pulsed in Elyra’s hand, reacting to the energy of the room. The structure was unlike anything they had seen before—glowing with an unnatural light, it seemed to hum with power. Elyra stepped forward, drawn to it, but as she neared, something shifted. The air around them thickened.
A voice, cold and distant, echoed through the chamber.
“Step forward, and see what lies ahead,” the voice said, its tone chilling.
Before Elyra could react, a swirling mist began to form around the crystal, growing denser with each passing second. The mist shifted and changed, taking on the form of images—visions. Elyra blinked, her heart pounding as she recognized the scene unfolding before her.
In the vision, she stood in front of a grand throne, her hands bloodied as she held a crown aloft. The people around her bowed in fear, their faces twisted with terror, as if she were a ruler who had taken everything from them. She could feel their fear, their desperation for freedom—but she didn’t care. She ruled with an iron fist, forcing them to bend to her will. It was power, pure and unrelenting.
“No…” Elyra whispered, horrified by the image. “This isn’t me.”
But the vision did not fade. Instead, it twisted, becoming darker, more distorted. She saw herself standing in the middle of a battlefield, surrounded by lifeless bodies. The crown was gone, replaced by a dagger—her hands slick with blood. And in the distance, she saw Dain. His face was cold, expressionless. He turned his back on her, walking away without a word, leaving her to rule in solitude.
A cold chill ran down Elyra’s spine as the vision shifted again. She saw herself alone, her empire crumbling around her. The people she had once ruled were gone, and all that remained was an empty throne. The silence was deafening.
“Only one can ascend.”
The words hung in the air like a death sentence, the weight of them settling in Elyra’s chest. She turned to Dain, but he was lost in the vision, his eyes no longer the same. They were dark, cold—empty.
“What does it mean?” Elyra asked, her voice shaking.
Dain’s lips parted, but before he could answer, the vision chamber grew darker. The air thickened, and the whispers of the shadows seemed to grow louder. The light from the crystal flickered, then went out entirely, plunging them into darkness.
Elyra’s heart pounded in her chest as she reached for Dain, but the shadows between them stretched farther, growing more impenetrable with each passing moment.
-: A disembodied voice whispers: “Only one can ascend.”
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