Obsidian Spire still echoed with the aftermath of battle, its black stone walls lined with cracks from the intense tremors. Camelia sat on the temple floor, her breath heavy, her light dimming after using the last of her strength to destroy Morgath's altar.
Sylvara stood nearby, her claws still stained with Bloodthorn priests' blood, her eyes scanning the room for any remaining threats. Morgath lay motionless on the ground, her red amulet shattered, her power stripped away, but her eyes still burned with hatred as she stared at Camelia.
Atherion entered the temple, his steps swift, his dark armor reflecting the flickering torchlight. His eyes immediately searched for Camelia, and relief spread across his face when he saw her safe.
"You did it," he said, his deep voice filled with unspoken gratitude. "Is the seal secure?"
