The underground chamber stretched before them, the air thick with the scent of old blood and something deeper—something wrong. The stone altar at the center loomed over them, covered in deep carvings that pulsed with faint, reddish light.

  James tightened his grip on his sword. “This place feels cursed.”

  Lyra scoffed. “Of course it is. Have you seen the decor?”

  Riona strode forward, boots crunching over brittle bones. “Question is, what kind of cursed? The ‘you hear whispers and go insane’ kind? Or the ‘bloodthirsty monstrosity wakes up and eats us’ kind?”

  “Both?” Lillian suggested, inspecting the carvings on the walls. The scenes were clearer now—hooded figures gathered around the altar, their hands raised as if in prayer. But the entity they worshipped wasn’t depicted clearly. Its form twisted and blurred, an unnatural smear in the stone.

  Garrick huffed. “Let’s figure it out before something tries to kill us again.”

  Lyra crouched beside the altar, running her fingers along the carvings. “There’s some kind of mechanism here. It’s old but still functional.” She traced a deep groove down the side, leading to a basin stained dark. “It looks like it needs a blood offering.”

  James groaned. “Why is it always blood?”

  “Because blood magic is easy,” Lyra muttered, standing up. “A little life essence in exchange for power. Always a bad idea, but people keep doing it anyway.”

  Riona rolled her shoulders. “So, do we cut a finger, or does it want something more dramatic?”

  James eyed the massive dried bloodstains. “Judging by how much is already here… I don’t think a paper cut will do.”

  Lillian exhaled. “Alright. So, we either figure out a workaround, or one of us volunteers to donate.”

  Garrick tested the edges of the altar, grunting. “Doesn’t look like we can just smash our way through.”

  Lyra stood, tapping her chin. “There might be another way.”

  James summoned a skeletal minion and gestured toward the basin. “Alright, buddy. You’re up.”

  The skeleton obediently walked forward and placed its bony hand over the basin. Nothing happened.

  James frowned. “I was hoping it would count as ‘blood.’”

  Riona smirked. “I don’t think the altar accepts undead donations.”

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  Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “What about your summons, James? The shadow creatures.”

  James hesitated. His necromancy tattoos burned faintly as he called forth one of his newer summons—a creature formed from living shadows. It flickered at the edge of reality, its shape barely holding together.

  He directed it toward the altar. The moment it touched the basin, the shadows quivered, then liquefied into an inky substance. The altar absorbed it instantly.

  The runes flared to life.

  James took a step back. “Well. That worked.”

  The chamber trembled.

  A deep, guttural growl echoed through the ruins. The shadows along the walls twisted, stretching unnaturally as something massive took shape.

  From the darkness, a figure emerged—twice the size of a man, its body wrapped in tattered, ceremonial robes. Its face was hidden beneath a cracked, horned mask, but its hands…

  James swallowed. The thing’s hands were too long, too many. Multiple arms twitched and flexed as if they had been stitched together from different creatures.

  “Well,” Lillian muttered. “We woke something up.”

  The guardian let out a distorted snarl and charged.

  Garrick stepped forward, shield raised. The creature slammed into him with unnatural force, sending him skidding back. He gritted his teeth, bracing against the impact. “This thing hits like a damn boulder!”

  James didn’t wait. He raised a hand, summoning two skeletal warriors. They rushed forward, hacking at the guardian’s legs. The creature barely acknowledged them—it swiped a massive arm, shattering both into bone fragments.

  Lyra hurled a firebolt. It struck the guardian’s chest, leaving a scorch mark but doing little else.

  Riona was already moving, darting in with a precise slash. Her saber cut deep into its side, but instead of blood, thick black ichor oozed from the wound. The creature roared and lashed out, forcing her to roll away.

  Lillian fired a shot at its mask, but the arrow bounced off. “Great. It’s got armor.”

  James took a breath. He needed to try something new.

  He focused, channeling his necromantic energy. The tattoos on his arms burned cold as shadows gathered around him. Instead of summoning another skeleton, he pulled from the darkness itself.

  A shadowy wolf took shape at his side, its eyes burning with the same eerie light as his previous summons.

  James pointed at the guardian. “Go.”

  The wolf darted forward, moving too fast for the guardian to react. It leapt, jaws latching onto the creature’s arm. Shadows rippled from the bite, sinking into the guardian’s body. The beast staggered, its movements slowing.

  James’s eyes widened. “It’s working.”

  Riona didn’t hesitate. She went for the legs again, slicing deep into the slowed creature. Garrick followed up with a heavy swing of his axe, hacking at its torso.

  The guardian howled, collapsing to its knees.

  James summoned another shadow beast, sending it straight for the mask. The moment it made contact, the mask cracked, revealing a single, gleaming red eye beneath.

  Lyra saw her chance. “Move!”

  The party dove aside as she unleashed a bolt of searing magic, hitting the exposed eye dead center.

  The guardian shrieked, its body convulsing. The shadows that held it together unraveled, and with a final, gurgling gasp, it collapsed into a pile of tattered cloth and ash.

  Silence.

  James exhaled. “Well. That sucked.”

  Lillian nudged the remains with her boot. “At least it’s dead.”

  The altar pulsed once, then stilled. The door at the far end of the chamber rumbled open.

  Riona stretched. “Well, that was fun. Who’s ready for more?”

  James groaned. “You enjoy this way too much.”

  Garrick rolled his shoulders. “Let’s keep moving. I don’t want to find out if that thing had a friend.”

  With the path forward now open, the party pressed on, deeper into the ruins and toward whatever awaited them in the darkness.