The Sixth Layer of the Abyss. Foundry Citadel.
Above the citadel, the sky wasn't just burning; it was being rewritten.
For the denizens huddled within the Foundry Citadel, the view was apocalyptic. The Doomsday Fire didn't just flicker; it roared, tearing through the suffocating gray spores like a dragon clawing its way out of a cage. Every time a massive plume of fire ripped a gap in the haze, revealing the deep, dark void beyond, a wave of collective relief washed over the city.
The ground beneath them shuddered rhythmically. It was the heartbeat of the volcano, synchronized with the exertion of the Conquest Legion. Down below, the soldiers were pouring every ounce of their mana into the formation, fueling the counterattack.
It was a terrifying, beautiful spectacle.
In the crucible of this disaster, the Foundry Citadel was finally living up to its name. The heat wasn't just melting the spores; it was fusing the population together.
