The air within Ironholt's depths shifted as Elizabeth and her companions pressed deeper, the oppressive shadows almost alive around them. The ancient relic, the Crown of Echoes, sat heavily in Elizabeth’s pack, its silent presence a constant weight on her mind.
Every footstep echoed like a drumbeat of destiny.
“Stay sharp,” Elizabeth whispered, her voice barely louder than the faint scuff of their boots. Beside her, Cedric tightened his grip on his sword, while Mira kept glancing over her shoulder, the mage's senses prickling.
They were not alone down here.
A sudden, chilling screech split the silence. Before anyone could react, grotesque figures lunged from the gloom-twisted remnants of once-proud warriors, now enslaved to some ancient curse.
“Shields!” Cedric barked, stepping in fro
