"I am willing to enter into a contract."
"I am willing to make the Lord of Profundity my faith for the rest of my life."
"I am willing to offer my soul to the most exalted Lord, all in exchange for power..."
Bobota sensed the true-name marks blazing conspicuously within his mind space. Whispers seemed to echo in his ears—the clauses of the contract he had signed with the Demon God long ago.
Those clauses repeated themselves over and over, as though reminding Bobota that it was time to fulfill his contract.
At this moment, Bobota was filled with sorrow and regret. In his short life, the saddest and most disastrous move he had ever made was choosing to stand with the Demon God for the sake of that unattainable "goal."
Had he not made that move, how could he have become what he was now? How could he have ended up like this?
How could he not regret it?
But regret was useless. Everything had already happened. No matter how desperately he wished to tear up the contract, before an ancient and mighty being such as the Demon God, he did not possess even a shred of strength to resist.
All he could do was wait in sorrow and helplessness for the moment his life utterly withered away and his soul fell into the abyss.
Just as Bobota resigned himself to death, outside, Angel looked at Bobota, who was nearly reduced to a skeleton, and said to Sanders, "His thoughts have completely contracted, and he is no longer sensing the outside world. Is it time to act?"
Sanders shook his head. "Not yet. The best moment will be the instant he perishes. That way, no traces will be left in his soul, and it will minimize the chances of