The sword's oppressive aura pressed down harder, like an invisible mountain crushing her bones.
Each step forward felt heavier than the last. Her knees buckled, sweat streamed down her body, and every breath burned like fire in her lungs. Yet, she advanced.
Step by step.
Until at last, she reached the altar again. With both hands, she gripped the hilt.
And the moment she did—
The ground shattered.
The moment Elysia's hand brushed against the hilt of the ancient sword, her vision was swallowed whole.
The cavern, the altar, even the air in her lungs vanished into nothingness.
She found herself standing in a vast, endless void. Shadows and light flickered around her like dying stars.
The air was heavy, oppressive, and her chest tightened as though a thousand unseen eyes watched her.
From the darkness, a colossal figure emerged—so tall it seemed to touch the heavens of this strange world.
