The Evil God's Weakness

The evil god's power seemed poised to shake Ian's sanity, dragging him into an endless abyss and making him part of itself amid his descent.

"No!" Ian roared, jabbing his wand hard against his forehead. The magic instantly cleared his mind. He bit through his tongue and used his blood to draw an ancient protective rune in the air.

The evil god calling himself Set-Apep tilted his head slightly, wearing an almost puzzled expression. "How interesting. You are the only one capable of resisting the summons. Why? Why reject eternal peace?"

"Because that isn't peace—it's death!" Ian replied between ragged breaths, sweat soaking through his robes. "You devour their consciousness and absorb their talents for no reason but to strengthen yourself. The 'equality' you speak of is nothing more than a fig leaf for dictatorship!"

For the first time, the evil god's expression changed. His flawless face twisted for an instant, revealing the savage essence beneath—under that handsome exterior was a horrifying amalgamation of countless struggling souls.

"You understand nothing!" Set-Apep's voice suddenly turned shrill. "Separation is the original sin; individuality is a curse! Only by becoming one can true perfection be attained!"

With his roar, every worshipper in the city raised their heads at once and repeated in the same voice, "Become one, become one." The sound crashed against Ian's eardrums like waves.

Ian looked around.

He realized he might be the last person in the city still awake.

Wizards, ordinary people, even street vendors and children—everyone's eyes reflected the same light, and everyone wore exactly the same expression.

Set-Apep regained his composure, donning that mask of perfect divinity once more. "One last chance, Ian Prince. Kneel and join us. You will retain your consciousness and become my spokesman. If you refuse..." He spread his hands elegantly. "You will