Mirela didn't argue.
She stood up immediately, grabbing her staff and her tunic crate, backing away toward the massive stone staircase alongside Anya.
Klaus walked ten yards away from the fire, stepping out into the open shadowless expanse of the polished obsidian floor.
He stood with his feet planted shoulder-width apart, closing his eyes and turning his focus entirely inward.
'Ah… time to experiment.' Klaus thought.
He didn't look toward the frozen rows of human statues inside his inner domain.
'For some reason, I can't get them to move again…'
He ignored the stored bandits, the rotting Winterland and other monsters as well as the armored Varhem guards he had butchered in the snow.
Instead, he reached deep into the center of his chest cavity, directing his awareness toward the volatile crackling anomaly he had absorbed back during his conquest of the ruined winter camp.
The Lightning Spirit.
It had never been a quiet prisoner.
