They descended into the chapel where the spell began. The crimson sigils on the walls had changed — twisting into shapes that breathed. In the center, a mirror waited. Not glass. Ice made of frozen blood.
“There is no other way.” Vald turned. For one breath, his face was human again — soft, tired, afraid. “Volume eight ends here, Haldyn. Not with a battle. With a choice.” crimson spell volume 8
Vald stopped before it.
Vald stepped past him into the dark corridor. His footsteps made no sound. That was new. Or old, Haldyn thought. Something the sword took from him and never gave back. They descended into the chapel where the spell began
“Don’t touch anything,” came the low warning behind him. afraid. “Volume eight ends here