Hungry...
So hungry!
Bathed in the terrified gazes of the Human Clan and the Dwarf Clan, Mork raised his head and roared, while his stomach also roared silently.
That bone-deep hunger didn't entirely stem from an empty stomach; it was more from an emptiness deep in his soul.
He felt as if his entire body had grown ten thousand mouths, every inch of skin, every muscle, even every crevice between his bones was filled with countless greedy wills madly screaming, endlessly gnawing at his sanity...
And the cause of all this originated three months ago, when, driven by a desire for strength, he drank the bottle of "Blood of God" handed to him by Omon, after which his consciousness fell into a long void.
He floated between half-dream and half-awake, like a fetus nurtured in amniotic fluid, yet also like a larva sealed in amber.
Until earlier, a sliver of light that shone through the rock layers finally awakened his heavy eyelids.
