The last enchantress of the underworld

workshop. The ancient symbol etched into its surface pulsed like a trapped heartbeat, a dark echo of a magic she had desperately

felt suffocating. "Where...Where did you find this?", her voice was b

s...found him like this" he gestured vaguely. "Lifeless. Drained. And this was clutched in his hand". He fi

f being drained, of one's very essence being stolen was a hallmark of a specific, predatory magic__a magic tied

of steadiness. " It belongs to something...old. Something

neath his jacket. Dante, however, held his gaze on Elara, a flicker of something a

ecially when it start

gotten lore pressing down on her. "This isn't about territory or rivals. This is a

er. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, a strange mix

image of the drained runner, the unsettling hum of the bone, and the raw fear she had glimpsed in Dante's eyes painted

ife force. Magic. It leaves behind....husks" she looked at the bone again, the glowin

furrowed. "A b

fying to a painful throb in her temples. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to deepen, to write with an unseen energy. The scent of

rned, no longer a faint slither but a clear, resonant call. It

on dawned. The symbol wasn't just a marker. It was a key. And somehow, h

int tug, a drawing sensation, as if something vast and

d, his usual composure momentarily cracking w

ithed faster ,coalescing into a vaguely humanoid form in the darkest corner. And from that form, a voice, cold and

WAKE