Chapter 107: Inside the Tower Part 3
The air grew hotter with every step they took.
Beyond the corpse of the armored demon, the corridor twisted into a descending spiral. The walls here bled. Not metaphorically—rivulets of thick, steaming ichor oozed from the living stone, dripping into shallow channels along the floor. The light dimmed to a bloody hue, pulsing in time with the unnatural heartbeat of the tower itself.
"I don’t like this," Lyra muttered. "It’s like we’re walking into a throat."
"Then let’s hope it doesn’t close on us," Korrik grunted, gripping his greatsword tighter.
Inigo moved point, rifle raised, eyes locked through the scope. His pulse hadn’t settled since the last fight. The Vulcan had done its job—but the fact that something so powerful was just the gatekeeper?
This place was more than a stronghold. It was a factory. A forge of nightmares.
"We’re deep into their territory now," Arienne said. Her voice was low, her hands glowing faintly with residual energy. "I can feel the concentration of magic. It’s not just ambient. It’s directed. Focused."
"Toward what?" Inigo asked without looking back.
"A source. A nexus." She hesitated. "Something is generating the rift from this side. Feeding it."
The tunnel widened abruptly, opening into a vast chamber.
It was circular, with walls ribbed like the inside of a cavernous shell. Hanging from the ceiling were dozens of fleshy pods—some twitching, others still. Below them, pools of black liquid steamed, filling the chamber with a sulfuric fog.