The moment the name left Mikel's mouth—
The world moved.
Too fast.
Con barely felt the movement before a hand clamped around his throat.
A brutal force lifted him off the ground.
His feet left the stone.
Air vanished from his lungs.
"—!"
His hands grabbed at the wrist crushing his neck.
But the strength there was absolute.
Unmoving.
Unbreakable.
Veyrath held him easily with one arm, examining him like an insect.
"Hm."
Mikel's body tilted its head slightly.
"…this vessel really is disappointing."
Con struggled to breathe.
His chest burned.
His fingers clawed at the arm gripping him, but the muscles beneath the skin felt like iron.
Completely immovable.
Veyrath sighed.
"You know, Constantine."
His tone was almost conversational.
"I actually wanted a different one."
Con's vision blurred.
"…what…?"
"The loud one."
Veyrath's smile widened.
"Daren."
Con's chest tightened violently.
"That body had spirit."
"He wasn't afraid."
Veyrath chuckled softly.
"Which made him terribly inconvenient."
His fingers tightened slightly around Con's neck.
"You see, Constantine, possessing a body requires fear."
"Cracks in the soul."
"A moment of weakness."
"But that fool?"
Veyrath clicked his tongue.
"He refused to break."
Con's hands trembled.
"…Daren…"
"Oh yes."
The Nether Prince sounded amused.
"He even swallowed a grenade to stop me."
For a moment, the ruined street was silent.
Then Veyrath laughed.
"Quite dramatic, honestly."
"Blew himself into millions of pieces."
"Do you have any idea how troublesome it is to gather fragments like that?"
His eyes gleamed with mock irritation.
"Such a mess."
Con's chest felt like it was collapsing.
Daren had done that.
Just to stop his body from being used.
Veyrath shrugged lazily.
"So I settled for this one instead."
He lifted Con slightly higher.
"Mikel's body."
"A bit fragile, but serviceable."
Con's vision darkened at the edges.
But Veyrath continued talking happily.
"Do you know why I chose your little group?"
"…why…"
"Oh, that part is actually interesting."
Veyrath leaned closer.
"I had no intention of answering the scholars' summoning."
"Rune magic is terribly annoying."
"Mortals begging for power they can't control."
His lips curled in disgust.
"But then…"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…I felt something."
Con's heartbeat pounded in his ears.
Veyrath smiled slowly.
"A familiar scent."
"The Ugly God's toy."
His gaze locked directly onto Con's face.
"…you."
Con froze.
"What…?"
Veyrath's grin widened.
"You walked near the rune circle during your investigation."
"And when you did…"
"I felt you."
His voice softened with eerie fascination.
"So I became curious."
"The Ugly God rarely plays with mortals anymore."
"I wanted to see what kind of toy he had made this time."
Con's stomach twisted violently.
"…toy…"
"Yes."
Veyrath shrugged casually.
"So I answered the summoning."
"And once I arrived…"
He gestured lazily toward the destroyed city.
"Well."
"You saw the result."
Con's body went cold.
The ruined district.
The dead civilians.
The mercenaries.
Daren.
Mikel.
All of it.
Because of him.
Because Veyrath came to see him.
Con's voice trembled faintly.
"…those people…"
"Yes?"
"…they died because of me."
Veyrath smiled brightly.
"More or less."
Con felt something crack inside his chest.
For a moment he couldn't breathe at all.
Then another question forced its way out.
"…who… is that Ugly God?"
Veyrath's expression changed instantly.
The amusement vanished.
Replaced by pure contempt.
"…that thing?"
He sneered.
"No."
"I won't speak about it."
Con's vision blurred further.
"Why—"
"Because I despise it."
Veyrath's eyes darkened.
"Once upon a time, Constantine."
"My people had temples in this world."
"Mortals worshipped us."
"Offered prayers."
"Gave sacrifices."
His smile twisted with bitterness.
"Then that Ugly God came."
"And destroyed my temple."
"Every last one."
"Wiped out my worshippers."
His voice dropped into something colder.
"…all out of sheer spite."
The grip around Con's neck tightened further.
"So I decided."
His smile returned.
"I would do the same."
"Erase what belongs to it."
Con felt the bones in his neck beginning to creak.
Crack.
Pain shot down his spine.
His vision nearly went black.
Then—
Veyrath suddenly frowned.
"…oh."
He studied Con's body curiously.
"Well that's strange."
His voice turned almost disappointed.
"Too bad…"
"…you're not a mortal."
Con's mind barely processed the words.
"What—"
Before he could finish—
Veyrath's fingers tightened.
CRACK.
Con's neck snapped.
His body went limp instantly.
But Veyrath didn't stop.
"Oh well."
"If you're the Ugly God's toy…"
"Let's see how durable you are."
He grabbed Con's arm.
And pulled.
The limb tore free with a wet sound.
Then the other.
Then his ribs shattered under crushing pressure.
Bone fragments scattered across the ruined street.
Veyrath dismantled him piece by piece.
Like a bored child breaking apart a doll.
The ruined city remained silent.
And the broken body of Constantine fell to the ground in pieces.