Chapter 49: The Witch of Abyssal Obsidian
The moon was a thin, silver scythe above us, half-shrouded by clouds as if the heavens themselves feared to witness what lay ahead. The Shadowgrove — once a sacred extension of the Sylveraine forest — stretched before us like a living wound, its ancient trees now twisted into grotesque silhouettes, their bark blackened and veined with pulsating streaks of crimson light. Even the wind here was different, heavy with whispers that didn’t belong to any mortal tongue.
We moved under its boughs in silence.
"This is the effect of the black orb, it corrupts everything around it at close proximity." The headmistress noted.
Headmistress Aragona walked at the front, every step deliberate and precise. Cloaked in an enchantment of shadowwoven silk, she seem
