[Leo's POV]
The suffocating pressure of the inner sanctum didn't go away. If anything, the air got heavier, thick with a cold wetness that stuck to my skin like oil.
I kept walking, my boots cutting through the thin layer of grey ash on the black floor.
Behind me, I could hear Arthur's heavy steps, Roan's light footsteps, and Elisabeth's silent walking. I didn't look back, but my Soul Perception was stretched out like a net, keeping track of all three of them. I wasn't going to let this fog take them.
Not again.
Amelia will survive, I thought, pushing down the worry before it could grow. She has the water spirit. If she breaks here, she won't survive what comes in the future.
We walked through an endless labyrinth of weeping stone.
The smooth black walls seemed to lean inward, the carved figures of kings and children staring down at us with hollow, wet eyes. The purple veins in the rock pulsed faster now, casting a rhythmic, sickly glow over our path.
