Chapter 29: Dungeon Cleared?
Ethan’s eyes darkened until they were pools of black ink, void of pupils or whites. A deep silence
swallowed the chamber. The roar of battle, the crackle of magic, even the flickering torchlight—all
seemed to retreat into a vacuum around him.
Then a black aura began to spill from his skin like smoke, coiling around his limbs.
He didn’t scream. Didn’t speak.
He simply stood, like an ancient statue awakening from centuries of slumber.
Slowly, Ethan bent down and picked up Warlord’s Fang from the floor. As he rose, the blade
hummed with a strange resonance.
A crimson glow flared along the steel, bright and vivid as fresh blood. But interwoven at the edges
of that glow were delicate tendrils of black, slithering like living shadows. The combined light cast
sinister patterns on the dungeon walls, both beautiful and terrifying.