The fabric of the universe wrinkled, tugging the bogspectre’s senses toward a black hole. It sensed a familiar presence. It knew.
Necrovar had returned.
Wherever the Shadow Lord had been imprisoned, he’d broken free. The bogspectre could feel his darkness radiating outwards like heat waves from a fire. Magics that had been lost for a ten-age surged forth, saturating the air with invisible burning threads.
Surely such an imbalance would destroy the bogspectre, the city, the entire world.
But catastrophe did not strike. The city did not crumble. The sky did not cave in on the oblivious mortals racing hither and thither beneath it.
In the back of its mind, the bogspectre realized something must have happened that had made possible Necrovar’s return. The release of another magic that bala
