The wind howled through the broken ruins, carrying the smell of old dust and something else — something stale and cold, like air from a tomb that hadn't been opened in years.
Across the outer plaza, the bodies of corrupted candidates lay scattered on the stone. Their purple eyes had finally gone dark, their breathing slow and steady as they slept off the monster's control.
We had won the first battle against the guardian.
But the war wasn't over.
I stood near the collapsed archway that led deeper into the inner ruins, my back against a crumbling pillar, my eyes fixed on the dark opening ahead.
The fog was thicker here, swirling lazily around my boots like it was waiting for something. A deep purple glow pulsed from beyond the archway, heavy and slow, like a heartbeat. Like something was watching us from the dark.
Riven walked up to me, his steel-red eyes hard and his jaw tight. His daggers were still gripped firmly in his hands, dripping with thick black blood.
