The path stretched before them, paved in stones that pulsed faintly like dying hearts. Each step they took made the ground squirm slightly underfoot, as if something just beneath the surface was watching, waiting.
Leonhardt walked at an even pace.
Zafira glided beside him, her hand lightly brushing his coat now and then—half reassurance, half warning. Erina clutched the hem of her coat tighter, her emerald eyes wide, lips pressed into a line of quiet defiance.
The air changed.
The oppressive mist lifted like a theatre curtain pulled aside—and the Black Briar Auction Hall revealed itself.
A cavern.
A cathedral.
A nightmare.
It spread out in a massive hollow under the earth, supported by pillars grown from twisted black roots, each one thick as a house and covered in barbed, writhing vines. The ceiling above vanished into darkness, broken only by the pale green luminescence of fungal lamps and braziers that oozed black fire.
Hundreds of creatures filled the audience.
Not men.
