The air inside the temple was thick with the scent of ancient ozone and the metallic tang of fresh blood. Zeven hung suspended from the central pillar, his weight dragging against the iron spikes that pierced his skin. Below him, the reservoir of blood had transformed into a churning, violent entity. It was no longer merely a pool; it had become a living furnace of dark energy that radiated heat so intense it caused the stone floor to crack. The vortex at the center of the reservoir spun with a low, bone-deep hum that vibrated through the chains and settled deep into Zeven’s marrow.
He gasped, his vision swimming as the heat lashed out at him like tongues of fire. Every breath was a struggle, as if the very air had been replaced by a heavy, humid vapor that clung to his throat. He felt th
