Solam had been far too arrogant. He had never taken these cultists seriously, and he had not bothered to cast any enhancement spells on himself. That was what had led to his current predicament.
Too many negative curses had struck him. No matter how high Solam's resistances were, facing so many negative curses at once was simply asking for trouble. Although he had resisted death's call, and most of the damage had been weakened by his elemental form, the shock to his soul had prevented him from maintaining his connection to the Elemental Plane. His elemental form had dissipated outright, allowing a massive amount of negative energy to wreak havoc inside his body. Solam could even feel that his internal organs had been damaged to a certain extent.
Although Solam possessed an extraordinarily powerful physique, such injuries would not be fatal, but neither could they heal in an instant.
The cultist glanced at Solam's pale face and burst into triumphant laughter. "Hahahahaha! How did it feel to brush past death, Lord Solam? This is the price of your arrogant blasphemy against the gods! Don't be in such a hurry—the fun part is still to come. I'll capture every last one of you, then slowly get what I want from you! Once I've tortured you enough, I'll kill you slowly. Well, arrogant Lord Solam, are you satisfied with those arrangements?"
The cultist was very pleased with himself, and he had every reason to be. In his eyes, Solam was already at the end of his strength. After all, Solam's foolishness had allowed them to dump so many curses on him all at once.
He was already shocked that those curses had failed to kill Solam. The physical damage from those curses and divine spells was secondary; the truly lethal part was