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I’d never thought of snakes as beautiful creatures. Their scales, intricately woven and shimmering in dazzling colors, could be visually striking, but when I imagined their prey being swallowed whole, dissolving slowly inside their guts, it left me feeling uneasy… disturbed, even. The snake tattoo that crept up Ridbaren’s neck went beyond that vague discomfort. It was downright revolting.
The snake had horns and two long fangs. He was clearly a member of the Necron Society. In other words, he was a servant of the 16th Demon King, Botis. This so-called inquisitor was a Demon King's puppet. As far as jokes went, that was about as stale as it could get.
Could that mage beside me earlier have been part of Necron’s inner circle?
The massive tattoo didn’t strangle his neck this time. Instead, it spread rapidly, almost seeping into his skin.
"Ah! H-Haaack!"
Screams erupted from deep within his gut, as though every single nerve was being ripped apart.
"KuaaAAAAHHH!!"
The screams sounded grotesque. The inquisitor trembled violently, as if he needed to vomit something out of his very being.
"Hiik… grk!"
Crunch!
The middle-aged man I thought was just a powerless puppet suddenly opened up in a horrific way.
Splurt!
A fountain of crimson blood burst out from his elbow, but that was only a distraction. Twisted bones and sinew from his opened arms transformed into hundreds of pitch-black snakes, launching straight at me.
"Hi...
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