Chapter 112: Azarath - 2
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Arthur and Kara soared over the shattered city, their silhouettes blazing against the haze-choked skyline. As they closed in, the temple loomed a white monolith at the heart of the decay, untouched by time compared to its surroundings, but steeped in a pressure that made the soul itch.
Arthur landing with a heavy thud, cloak swirling behind him in a wave of dark energy, Kara descending beside him, boots skimming the ground with a soft hiss of displaced air.
The temple doors towered above them, ancient, etched with Azarathian runes that shimmered dimly in reaction to their presence.
Arthur narrowed his eyes, fingers twitching slightly as the air shifted.
"The magic I'm sensing is growing stronger," he muttered, his voice lower now. More focused. The kind of tone he used right before things went sideways.