Lyla’s fingers wrapped around the Obsidian Fang, and a jolt of icy energy surged through her body. It was as though the artefact itself was alive, its dark power pushing against her like a physical force. For a moment, the cavern seemed to vanish, replaced by a swirling abyss of shadow and whispers.

The voices were low and guttural, a language she couldn’t understand but felt deep in her bones. They tugged at her mind, offering power and promises that were both tantalizing and ...