Kronos' personal hall stretched nearly fifty meters long, built from radiant materials that shimmered with an otherworldly luster. Every inch of it screamed wealth and arrogance. The walls glowed faintly as if they themselves were polished gemstones, while the air inside carried a crisp fragrance, like incense lingering from centuries past. This was no simple chamber—it was a shrine to Kronos' greed and vanity.
The hall displayed the personality of its former master in vivid detail. Kronos had not only hoarded treasures—he had turned his obsession into art. Each shelf, statue, and pedestal was arranged to show not only his power, but his pride in displaying it. And now, all of it was about to fall into Emery's hands. The irony of it made Emery's lips curve faintly.
