Chapter 36
The finality of the act was absolute. The runes on the obsidian door blazed with an infernal, violet light, pulsing in time with the monstrous heartbeat of the ritual within. Seraph’s sacrifice had not just reinforced the ward; it had turned the door into a solid wall of pure, unassailable magical force. The psychic pressure emanating from it was a physical blow, forcing Brokk and his warriors to stumble back, their hands clapped over their ears as if against a deafening sound. Kael stood frozen before the door, his sword hanging uselessly at his side. Despair, an emotion he had not truly felt in centuries, washed over him. He had fought his way through an army, watched his comrades fall, and reached the final threshold, only to be defeated by a locked door. The irony was so bitter it tas
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