Dominic impulsively sprang into action. Before him, the ruins of the Tribunal sprawled out in a chaotic mosaic of shattered stone, twisted metal, and smoldering timber fragments, remnants of a fallen authority.
Above the devastation, the lich hovered menacingly, its tattered robes fluttering wildly in the scorching, sulfur-laden air, its cold, piercing eyes like icy arrows scanning the battlefield with the calculated poise of a victorious general surveying his conquest.
The risen dead shuffled listlessly through the wreckage, their vacant, soulless eyes fixed intently on the living adversaries.
But Dominic's focus remained unwavering on the lich.
It was time to strike.
