Losek was not merely using its entrails for sacrifices and prayers; they were its life, its essence. Judging by its expression, the process was excruciating, but judging by the puddles on the floor, it was also intensely pleasurable.
Pain and pleasure reached their peak, like bloodied bait drawing out the deep malice beneath the sea. A shadow seemed to descend over the entire secret chamber, pressing heavily upon Realspace.
A purple eyeball appeared above the ritual circle. Its gaze held boundless malice and endless desire.
A mere glance from that eye sent Losek's body trembling uncontrollably. It could no longer move, lying on the floor and twitching like a fish being electrocuted. Whether this came from pain or some other sensation was impossible to tell.
"Death? That would be mercy!" No voice spoke; instead, the meaning itself suffused the entire room.
Losek's body began to melt. More grotesque things sprouted from the liquid it became: tentacles, eyeballs, and teeth.
"Cornwall," who had been standing nearby, calmly stepped forward, bowed slightly to the eye, and offered a polite greeting.
"It's useless, but it still has its uses," "Cornwall" said.
The purple eye turned its gaze toward "Cornwall," whose figure was no larger than an ant compared with Losek.
"You! You crafty bastard! ... This had better not be another of your schemes!"
"Cornwall" did not answer directly. He smiled. "We have a basis for cooperation, don't we? Besides, wasn't my information entirely accurate? Was this soul, this meal, not delicious enough?"
The purple eye gave no immediate response. It merely stared at "Cornwall."
"You seem to be injured?" "Cornwall" sounded positively deserving of a beating. "But rest assured, this target won't be so difficult. We are gods. We shouldn't be as petty as these ants."
"I do not trust you," the