Chapter One Hundred and Seventy-Eight
Crow and Thalgrun stood before the obsidian gates carved into the heart of Mount Granzahr.
"The last one," Thalgrun muttered. "Her name is Khorla the Ember-Soul. A Primordial God-rank forge mistress… she vanished into the molten depths centuries ago."
Crow gave a silent nod.
Xar'Zenth loomed behind them, his massive wings folded, tail still flicking with celestial calm.
With a gesture, Crow opened a spatial rift through the sealed mountain layers—cutting through magma and divine wards. The way to Khorla's forge opened.
As they descended, the air thickened with power. Then—a burst of heat and a sudden clang of metal on metal. She was here.
A towering figure stepped from the inferno, flames coiling around her body like armor. Her golden eyes locked onto Crow, her voice low and sharp.
"Who dares wake the Ember-Soul?"
Crow met her gaze, unflinching.
"I've come to make a contract."