In the thick veil of fog, Karl walked steadily toward the center of the altar, where Daihar loomed like a nightmare made flesh. The demon's crimson eyes burned like twin coals, locked onto the silver pendant clutched in Karl's hand—the ritual tether once tied to the sacrificial girl.
"You're after this, aren't you?" Karl said coolly, lifting the pendant high.
Daihar let out a guttural screech, the black mist around him swirling violently in a cyclone of fury. The moment he realized the offering had been taken, his monstrous form trembled with rage.
Karl smirked faintly. "Then come and get it."
Without warning, Daihar lunged forward, each stride shaking the earth. His long, sickle-like claws slashed through the air with shrill howls. But Karl didn't retreat. He raised a single hand—and the ground beneath them collapsed inward.
