After a while, Arthur slowly rose to his feet and got dressed. The several succubi also dressed themselves like puppets, then crowded around Arthur as they escorted him out of the tent. An evil force controlled the nearby draconian guards. They formed neat ranks and followed closely behind Arthur as they left the camp, hurrying down a broad road toward the city gates.
Arthur and the others hurried onward, yet not a sound could be heard around them. A faint black mist curled around their feet, swallowing every sound made by their footsteps. Several bizarre serpent heads flickered in and out of sight above them. The Heaven-Devouring Body was smugly wielding its sinister power, controlling Arthur and several hundred draconians.
They encountered no resistance as they left the city. Breaking into a run, they charged toward the nearest camp of the Sand Scorpion Khanate. While still several hundred meters away, Arthur began shrieking at the top of his lungs, "I surrender! I've come to surrender! I am Arthur, Prince of the North Sea of the Gallic Empire! I am a Cardinal red-Robed Divine Crown Archbishop secretly consecrated by the Temple of Punishment! I have all my identifying documents on me!"
"I surrender! I surrender to you! Damn it, I don't want to sacrifice myself for some so-called empire! I don't want to sacrifice myself for the Church's interests! I won't sacrifice myself for the people of the Western Continent! What do they have to do with me?"
Arthur spat vile curses, cursing every god worshipped by the Church that he knew of. His words were venomous, his curses wicked, and his language utterly filthy. He cursed the gods until his voice was hoarse, and his madness was so terrifying that even the most resolute blasphemous heretics would have felt a