[You have summoned a "Star of Hatred."]
A crimson star appeared around Sam and began hovering in slow, deliberate circles.
It pulsed faintly, almost like a heartbeat, radiating an ominous crimson glow that only he could see.
As always, the celestials had no idea what was happening.
To them, nothing had changed.
They simply assumed that Sam and his clone were buying time, and so they all prepared to rush him, to overwhelm him completely and finish the job.
After all, once they killed him, they would officially earn the favor of the King.
Completing the [Ultimate Mission] would mean that one among them would finally "ascend."
Whichever one of them achieved that would be able to lift the rest as well, making their entire group far stronger than before.
Their ambition gleamed in their eyes like reflected firelight.
"Eight of you died," Sam said, his tone cold. "But... you don't even seem sad."
