The oppressive darkness of the deep abyss was regularly ripped open by violent, crimson flashes. Beneath the jagged overhangs of the Serpent's Maw, the sea ran thick with the metallic stench of mana-rich blood and the acrid ozone of overcharged execution seals.
Yua stood at the epicenter of a shattered cavern floor, her pale skin glistening under the faint red light of her own aura. The water around her pulsed with heavy, agonizing waves of pure bloodlust. Her crimson eyes, stripped of any human warmth, locked onto the five figures arrayed before her in a ragged semicircle.
The executioners of The Root were no longer moving with the graceful, mechanical precision that made them feared throughout the Clover Spire.
