Eighth Outerlayer, Lycanne Tribe

The crimson skies of Groundzero loomed ominously as Albrecht approached the threshold of the Eighth Outerlayer. His eyes gleamed with determination, reflecting the eerie light that bathed the treacherous landscape. Sariel's Death Scythe rested against his back, its dark energy pulsating faintly, almost alive with anticipation. Beside him, Adam, ever the enigmatic shadow, moved with silent precision, his keen gaze scanning the dense, foreboding terrain ahead.

The jagged, obsidian trees twisted upwards, their gnarled branches resembling skeletal hands clawing at the heavens. Beneath their shadowy canopy, the ground was a chaotic mess of thick undergrowth, broken rocks, and the occasional bone fragment. The howls of Lycannes echoed intermittently, each one a chilling reminder of the feral dangers that lurked within. This was no ordinary journey; this was a deliberate plunge into chaos. For Albrecht, this was more than conquest—it was retribution.