The mines of Valebreach plunged deeper into a labyrinth of scorched stone with their tunnels narrowing into claustrophobic passages, the glow of fire essence veins was intensifying, their pulses was a relentless drumbeat against the blackened walls, casting jagged shadows that writhed like specters of Kelvin's past.
His boots was crunched on the ash-strewn floor, as each step was echoing in the oppressive silence, his pack was heavy with Mealin's fire-sealed tome, fire-resistant ores, wyrm essence, water runes, ice runes, the rune-etched pick, the Veil-tainted scale, and the psychic crystal, each item a lifeline for the battle ahead, their weight a constant reminder of the stakes.
Xerion slithered beside him, his twenty-foot serpentine form was a cascade of crimson and gold scales, their faint scars were shimmering with restored vitality, the honor rune which was etched in the Sanctum's infirmary kept glowing softly.
