El-Kharis's group moved through the vampire stronghold like shadows, each step deliberate and soundless as they followed their escorts deeper into Dysheria. The grand halls, illuminated by cold blue torches, cast an eerie glow on the stone walls, while intricate silver etchings traced ancient battles and the twisted tales of vampire lineage—a haunting reminder of their surroundings. El-Kharis and his team wore their roles with practiced ease, blending seamlessly into the chill of the night.
After a series of winding corridors, they reached a secluded wing where their rooms awaited. Each door, small and dark, bore the symbols of ancient vampire clans, insignias of long-buried histories and legacies. Zareon and Leon, ever vigilant, kept their expressions neutral, though their eyes missed nothing, absorbing every detail and noting potential escape routes at every turn.