The valley at the base of Mount Ignata looked like someone had taken a giant knife and carved a wound into the earth. Black rock walls rose on either side, funneling them toward what Grace could only assume was certain death. Or, well, a very painful experience.
"Eyes up," Seraph muttered. "We've got company."
Grace looked.
[Holy crap.]
Demons lined the cliff edges above them. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. Amethyst eyes glowing in the shadows. All watching. All waiting.
And none of them attacking.
"That's... creepy as hell."
"It's almost like a show of force." Seraph's hand never left her sword. The tension in her shoulders said everything. "Like the Flame wants us to know she controls them."
"Great. Love that for us."
They kept walking. The heat got worse with every step forward. Grace's armor felt like it was actively trying to cook her alive. The fire-resistant enchantments were doing their best but against this level of heat?
[Might as well have worn a tin foil suit.]
