Before his words had even faded, the most agile tentacle, its tip shaped like a massive pincer, struck like a venomous snake leaving its den. Ignoring the Magic Shields Ian had hastily erected, it seized him with terrifying precision once more!
The tentacle's strength was horrifying. With a single squeeze, Ian felt every bone in his body groan under the unbearable pressure. His magic was tightly sealed, and even breathing became difficult. He was held high like a lamb awaiting slaughter, suspended directly before one of the evil god's sixteen perfect faces.
"Struggle!" the evil god snarled. The tentacle gripping Ian began moving slowly, carrying him toward the gaping, fang-filled maw of one face. "Let fear seep into your soul! Let despair gnaw at your mind! In the eternal agony of becoming part of my 'perfection,' savor the stupidity of your choice today!"
Ian was gripped tightly, like a bird caught in the coils of a giant python. He struggled with all his strength, blasting out magic and twisting his body, but the evil god's power was like a mountain, utterly unmoving. The fang-filled maw drew closer and closer, its foul stench rushing over him. He could even see the dark purple flesh walls deep within its mouth, pulsing like living organs.
The shadow of death had never been so clear.
Just as the maw was about to close and its fangs were about to bite down—
Ian, tightly gripped and seemingly driven into a dead end, suddenly stiffened. Then, on his face, twisted by pain and suffocation, the corner of his mouth curled upward in an incredibly abrupt, incredibly slow smile.
"Heh heh..."
A low, hoarse chuckle, filled with indescribable mockery and calculation, squeezed from his compressed throat.
The evil god's movements froze for an extremely brief instant, less