The air around them was heavy with the remnants of battle. The once fierce and chaotic battlefield now stood still, the shattered remains of Varaxos and his army of puppets strewn across the cavern.
Cruzer's chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, his fingers loosening slightly on the Abyssal Shardblade, which still hummed with the aftershock of void energy.
Elara, still kneeling on the ground, wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, her staff resting on the ground beside her as she tried to recover from the monumental spell she had cast.
For a moment, it seemed like it was finally over, but a faint, unsettling chill crept through the cavern, causing both of them to freeze.
A faint, eerie whisper echoed through the chamber, sending a shiver down Cruzer's spine.
Just as he turned to check Varaxos' remains, a sinister glow began to emanate from the pile of bones.