Chapter 69. The Dreadmaw Hierarchy

Lira’s POV

The castle loomed before me, its exterior vast and forbidding, crowned by five towers—three on the left and two on the right—each rising like a sentinel against the darkening sky. I stepped inside through massive oak doors rimmed with iron studs, and immediately the flickering light of torches cast grotesque shadows across the flagstone floor.

Everywhere I looked, fragments of bone lay scattered like the remains of some long-forgotten battle, and bodies swung upside down from hooks embedded in the ceiling. The air reeked of fresh blood mingled with the sickly-sweet rot of decaying flesh, a stench so vile it clawed at my senses. Yet I forced each step forward, steeling myself against the revulsion. There was no turning back.

Deeper into the hall, I discovered five figures seated upon thrones carved from blackened stone and ivory bone. They tore into chunks of raw meat—not the flesh of deer or boar, but unmistakably human—chewing with a calm savage