In the silence that enveloped them, there was suddenly a quiet rustle, and a deep, heavy sigh resounded from the depths of the hall.
As if something vast and horrible was waking up from slumber.
As Asterion turned slowly, a subtle frown appearing on his face, a whisper that sounded like broken glass resounded from behind him:
“Who calls upon me?"
Cassie shivered.
And there, surrounded by darkness, stood the thing she had summoned.
The being appeared human... or at least human-shaped.
It was a man wearing tattered clothes, his face a mass of scars that looked to have been inflicted by his own nails. His dirty hair fell like rotten seaweed, obscuring the ghastly scars and the jagged band of dark metal resting on his head like a tarnished crown.
In his hand, he was holding the hilt of a graceful jian that seemed to have been cut from a single slab of pristine, flawlessly white jade.
It was the darkest horror of the Great River...
It was the Mad Prince.
HE’S BACK. WE’RE. SO. BACK.