Rubitael walked past Silas and turned his gaze upon the witch.
Though the woman had long since gone blind, she shrank back in terror when she felt his gaze sweep over her body.
At last, her back hit a wall, yet she still tried to flee from him. But he seized her arm with enough force to crush it and dragged her toward the fire.
"She possesses great power. I can taste it."
Silas licked his lips, the pink tentacles on his left arm twitching eagerly.
"That is why we must choose her."
Rubitael answered simply:
"The significance of this act is as important as her own great power. If the sacrificer does not cherish his offering, then it cannot be called a sacrifice."
"No, please."
The witch understood the meaning behind their words. She cried out and struggled to break free from his grip.
Silas stepped forward and gently held the witch's chin, stopping her struggles and forcing her to lift her head so that her blind eyes faced his own.
"Do not be afraid, madam."
The witch whimpered, her panicked lips producing incoherent sounds.
She tried to shake her head, but Silas held her tightly and said:
"This is all meaningless. If you try to resist, the pain of your death will exceed anything you can imagine. You must embrace Him and enjoy Him."
Rubitael watched as Silas slowly nodded, as though reluctantly making a difficult decision.
"Then enjoy it."
Silas spoke joyfully and withdrew his hand.
Then the tentacles on his left hand shot out like venomous serpents, plunging straight into her chest. The fleshy spikes tore apart her heart and lungs before bursting through her back amid spraying blood.
The witch did not die immediately. First she screamed, then groaned, then wailed, followed by bouts of