The screams lasted only about half a minute before the two men could no longer make a sound. Their throats, vocal cords and all, had been bitten through by the insects, and swarms of them kept pouring out. Then their flesh was devoured at a visible speed.
In the space of a few breaths, all that remained of the two men was a pair of heaps of stark white bones. The ferocious insects seemed unwilling to spare even the bones, continuing to gnaw at them as if they wouldn't stop until they had hollowed them out.
The sight left the three remaining members of the Underground Race terrified out of their wits. Their legs went weak, and cold sweat poured down their faces.
In truth, although they'd put on a good show just now, acting as if they had no intention of resisting, deep down they might still have wondered whether the distance between the two worlds had rendered those methods ineffective, leaving them free of their constraints.
They were simply more cautious by nature. They'd decided to play it safe, keep things steady for now, and do as they were told while they waited to see how things went in the long run.
If they found nothing amiss, they might well grow lax over time, or even entertain other ideas.
But unlike the two men, they hadn't voiced their contempt and disdain.
They hadn't even dared dwell on those thoughts. They knew they'd been bound by a master-servant contract with a mental-type awakened, and their master might know every thought that crossed their minds.
Under the circumstances, there were some thoughts they probably couldn't even afford to have in their dreams.
But those two stubborn fools hadn't just dared to think such things—they'd even had the nerve to rant