The Throne of Conquest
The Palace of Burning Fangs rose like a cathedral of war at the heart of the Draconic Lands, its towers of black obsidian piercing the scarlet clouds of a perpetually blazing sky. Within its volcanic stone entrails, the air vibrated with electric tension, charged with raw magic and titanic ambitions. The echoes of footsteps on black marble resonated like death sentences, carrying with them the weight of a nascent empire.
The throne room, defying all human measure, stretched nearly a hundred meters, its vaults lost in mystical darkness. Twisted columns, carved from a single block of draconic basalt, supported a ceiling where ancestral conquest bas-reliefs intertwined with prophecies engraved in fire runes. Braziers suspended by runic levitation cast dancing shadows that seemed to narrate the bloody history of the draconic race, their blue and gold flames creating an atmosphere both majestic and unsettling.
