In the depths of the gloomy hall, three lamps burned with a ghastly green flame on an altar table.
PUFF! PUFF! PUFF! All three went out in rapid succession.
The old man in charge of guarding the lamps snapped his cloudy eyes open, his stooped body stiffening.
He stretched out a trembling hand and touched the cold rim of a lamp, confirming it wasn't a hallucination.
"Cold Crow... Ashes... and Curse Eye."
A wheezing sound escaped the old man's throat. He grabbed a pitch-black Bone Staff from beside him and struck the ground forcefully.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
The dull thuds echoed through the vast, silent hall.
Several blurry figures emerged from the shadows, their auras frigid and heavy with the stench of death.
"The pact... is broken?" a hoarse voice asked.
"Broken. Three of them, one right after the other."
The old man nodded slowly, the loose skin on his face trembling, the fury in his eyes practically bursting forth.
"Shadow Moon's territory..."
