The tower did not feel like a building.
It felt alive.
The closer John walked toward its entrance, the more he noticed subtle changes in the air around him. Mana drifted through the streets like invisible mist, brushing against his scales before disappearing into the countless glowing runes carved into the black crystal walls.
Behind him, the expedition moved carefully.
Even Lythriel had stopped making jokes.
The silence pressing down on the ancient city was unlike anything they had experienced before.
It wasn't the silence of abandonment.
It was the silence of something waiting.
The enormous gates remained open behind them, pouring golden light across the polished road that led to the tower's entrance. The ruined districts they had crossed earlier seemed insignificant compared to what now stood before them.
Kar'Dum was impressive.
Greenwood was ancient.
But this place belonged to an entirely different age.
