The terror that washed over the adventurers was primal and absolute. The woman's presence didn't just feel dangerous; it felt ancient and utterly inhuman, a chilling contrast to her beautiful facade. The air grew thick with a psychic pressure that made it hard to breathe.
Hill's survival instincts screamed. "WEAPONS UP! NOW!" he bellowed, his voice cracking with panic. He managed to raise his sword, its tip trembling. Drokh grunted, hefting his massive axe with obvious pain, his face pale. Fia's staff glowed erratically as she tried to summon a defensive spell, her hands shaking. Hans simply stood frozen, his daggers hanging loosely at his sides, eyes wide with pure dread.
Lilith's smile widened, a flash of something sharp and endless in her crimson gaze. "Prey always tastes richer when it struggles. The fear adds such a delightful… bouquet."
