At the solemn proclamation, supreme light became a blazing torrent of flame, melting through layer after layer of devouring flesh walls.
Yet the pitch-black dome swallowed nearly all the light.
Here, space, time, and dimensions were all steeped in chaos utterly unlike the ordinary world. Amid endless terror and madness, keeping one's sanity and praying to the gods were ultimately beyond reach.
"Squeak! Squeak!"
The repeatedly wounded unnameable thing let out an enraged rodent-like shriek. Purple-red flesh buds around its wounds tangled like maggots, while swathes of frenzied flesh wriggled toward the beam of light piercing the darkness.
Hundreds and thousands of flesh buds scorched and melted under the burning light, only for countless masses of flesh to proliferate at once and press toward the light it loathed.
In mere seconds, the air filled with a nauseating briny stench.
At the same time, the purple-red tentacles wrapped around Joan of Arc kept compressing and coiling with terrifying force capable of splitting monuments and shattering stone, intending to stain this tiny insect in its grasp with the colors of madness.
Beneath the writhing, ferocious feelers, the suckers pressed against the Holy Banner's light barrier split open. Their circular teeth, like lamprey mouths, bored into the nearly shattered protection around Joan of Arc like drilling machines, continuously corroding it.
Slimy whispers burrowed into her mind like invisible worms and serpents, gnawing at it and bringing endless madness.
Crimson blood streamed down the blade. Even biting through her cherry lips, Joan of Arc could not stop the increasingly powerful mental assaults. The blazing beam of light, like a torch in the night, rapidly dimmed and began flickering uncertainly.
Pfft...
A moment later, the faint glimmer within the flesh walls, like a candle guttering in the wind, vanished in an instant. The frail figure