As for what's hidden in the darkness, to be honest, Roger was also unsure, but it's unlikely to be the warm arms of the waitress in the tavern.
At this moment, pale, worm-like arms had gathered into a pile beside Roger. They twisted like mollusks, seemingly non-aggressive, with liquid writhing beneath their transparent skin.
Roger frowned, stomping the ground in irritation. Strange patterns appeared out of thin air, causing the arms enveloped within to struggle madly like worms thrown into a boiling pot of oil.
Even the house not far in front of Roger trembled along with it.
Sizzle!
Smoke rose, and the writhing arms vanished into thin air, with some faint energy drilling into Roger's mind at the last moment.
"So pure..."
The energy's intensity was minuscule, but it surprisingly could help Roger repair a bit of soul damage. Realizing this, he no longer hesitated and stepped forward into the dark room.
"Wait for me!"
