These descendants of ancient wizarding families had one trick after another up their sleeves. Duke had watched from the sidelines the entire time, witnessing the two of them exhaust every last trump card.
The reason he had not chosen to kill Samuel outright was that the man might have possessed some life-saving means, just like Bell.
Duke was also glad he had not acted. He was not certain he could kill Samuel in a single blow; most likely, he could not. Samuel would certainly have had a chance to activate a wizard artifact and escape directly.
That would not only expose Duke's presence here, but also needlessly give him another enemy.
Duke ignored Bell on the ground and walked straight to the altar, where the kobold Reed had already removed the bronze box for him.
He took the bronze box, finding it icy cold and heavy in his hand.
The box was not carved with ordinary runes, but with primitive murals of an exceptionally ancient and rugged style.
The images depicted terrifying lifeforms so enormous they blotted out the sky, twisted in form yet majestic in bearing. They had to be ancient Darkspawn.
At the feet of those colossal beings, countless humanoid creatures as tiny as ants knelt in worship, conducting massive, bloody sacrifices.
The carvings carried an air of barbaric antiquity, primitive yet directly pointing toward the source of power, silently recounting the strength and terror of the Darkspawn race.
Duke gently opened the lid. Inside, a drop of blood as viscous as solidified obsidian floated quietly, its surface faintly squirming and flowing like a living thing.
It emitted no dazzling light, yet it seemed like a miniature black hole, subtly distorting and drawing in the surrounding light and perception.
A pure, ancient darkness-origin aura of extreme profundity rushed