In the depths of the forest—within a twisted, suffocating dimension—Aaron Snyde stood like an unmoving monolith.
This realm was his creation, a sealed space woven for one purpose: to ensure his disciples completed their task—kidnapping the Hero.
The cult had long since decided that the hero's blood, now awakened, had become the single most valuable resource imaginable for their research. For Aaron, successfully delivering it would mean not only unimaginable prestige but also a higher position within the cult's hierarchy.
And so, he had prepared everything.
A fleet brimming with Advance-rank soldiers. An entire squadron of Expert-ranks. Three of the most powerful Master-ranks under their banner. And as the finishing blade, his own disciples—Veyra and Veyron—monsters so talented that the cult had granted them the privilege of signing contracts with the Outer Gods themselves, becoming Avatars.
By all accounts, their victory had been inevitable.
