"The heart of the Law is not power, and it is love, burning like a flame, unwavering against the darkness."
The light of the Moon Goddess was gone, leaving the vast, echoing chamber of Velmoraeth colder and darker than before. The absence of the divine presence was profound, and the silence was broken only by the low, guttural breathing of Vorath, who remained pinned to the floor by the lingering residual power.
I did not move to finish him, and the Goddess had made it clear: he was the poison, but the Temple of Primal Law itself was the battlefield, and corruption was the true enemy. I pulled Elias away from the immediate vicinity of the altar, guiding him behind a massive, toppled slab of obsidian, a shard of history broken by the ages. We needed a moment to breathe, to shift the overwhelming encounter from the spiritual plane back to the brutal reality of the fight.
