The massive subterranean amphitheater was entirely silent, save for the soft, ambient hissing of the cooling void metal slag. The twelve elite executioners of the Iron Court were permanently erased from the physical world. The blinding, incinerating heat of the holy crucible had completely dissipated, leaving behind a cavern that smelled intensely of clean ozone and scorched stone.
The only remaining threat in the lightless tomb was the passive, suffocating gravity of the corrupted anvil resting on the dark grey dais.
Valeria stood at the absolute base of the massive structure. The block of black celestial steel was easily the size of a small mortal house. It was completely covered in a incredibly thick, ugly layer of rigid rust that looked like diseased scabs clinging to the skin of the earth. The corrupted anvil was actively bleeding a paralyzing, necrotic energy directly into the stone beneath her combat boots.
