A living sacrifice—no, it should have been called a banquet—was taking place deep beneath this desert island.
There was only one "person" at the banquet, stuffing itself without the slightest regard for appearances.
Like a wild dog that had gone hungry for over a decade.
Black, tentacle-like whips spiraled through the air, lashing everything around them without restraint.
Rubble fell, and the entire pyramid trembled, yet that clearly did nothing to curb its excitement.
It had even forgotten the two people who had brought its "children" into the ancient tomb, leaving them off to the side.
At last, as the eerie screams gradually faded away, it spared them a few glances.
Its mist-like body hovered in midair, its black-violet eyes glimmering with colors that flowed like drifting clouds.
But Coleman knew that was no harmless thing.
If one could withstand their mind-bending allure and look closely into those eyes, they would find them packed with the wronged souls of the dead.
That dazzling purple, filled with an unwillingness to fade, was their fury and despair.
Yet all of it had become the Lord's source of strength.
Cursing the Lord of Curses with curses would only make this "Lord," who already lived in the cracks between worlds, stronger and more unrestrained.
"Human, was it you who summoned me?"
The Lord of Curses put away its initially terrifying appearance and even adopted a somewhat affected manner of speaking.
The stench of death spread outward from the black mist, accompanied by an aura that drove intelligent beings mad and out of control.
It was a bewitching power born from the mingled "wishes of countless humans."
The illusions it created were enough to make eighty percent of people fall for them and lose their minds.
Coleman smiled, sounding faintly surprised. "Didn't you come looking