Gazing at the Moon

Cliff was led into a sumptuous chamber, a striking contrast to the ominous aura of the Cursed Serpent. He still wondered why this creature had insisted that he stay here instead of returning to the fortress to reflect.

Perhaps there was a hidden reason, some form of subtle control, or simply a whim of the ancient creature. Whatever the case, Cliff had no choice but to accept.

The room was a masterpiece of craftsmanship. Every detail seemed sculpted with an almost unreal precision. The walls, a polished black, were adorned with intricate, raised patterns traced with cold elegance. Despite its luxury, the room exuded a strange feeling of empty grandeur, almost ethereal.