King stepped forward.
The inner sanctum awaited.
The warmth of the inner sanctum washed over King, but the moment his boots crossed the threshold, the world lost its sharp edges.
The ambient sound of humming mana cut out. The camera angle of his vision shifted dynamically, pulling back to frame his form against the sheer scale of the chamber.
A cutscene had triggered.
The study was a cathedral to arcane knowledge. Floods of stellar light poured from an open-ceiling dome, illuminating floating platforms packed with ancient apparatuses. But King's focus was entirely locked on the figure at the center of the room.
Grand Magus Ephelia.
She sat upon a raised dais, an imposing figure standing easily eight feet tall. Her presence was monolithic. She was adorned in magnificent, flowing robes of midnight silk that seemed to bleed into the shadows around her. Her eyes glowed with an absolute, piercing luminescence as she looked down at him.
Then she spoke.
