"Alright. Let's start," he said with heat dancing in his eyes.
The old man walked out of the shack's creaky door, and Quinlan quickly followed after him, eager to see just what this fourth form had in store for him.
…
Vul'Kareth.
The capital of Vulkaris was everything the border town Zhaokun wasn't.
Where Zhaokun had been a gritty, militarized outpost clinging to the edge of the nation, Vul'Kareth blazed with grandeur. Built in concentric rings around a dormant volcano—the Thronespire—its architecture roared with fire-forged pride. Crimson banners snapped in the dry winds. Lava-lit canals coursed with a slow flow, illuminating the roads with an amber glow. The air crackled with heat, alive with embers.
This wasn't a place where people survived.
This was a place where the strong thrived.
