Gods could not die. Even if they fell, as long as their worshippers chanted their truenames day and night they would one day rise up from the astral plane, returning to their former glory.
Now, under the fervent chanting of the Poison Scorpion Church, the altar seemed to light up with a strange flame. Flesh and blood began to fuse together, revealing faces warped with pain.
“Almighty Lord, the God of Scorpions— Chester Potter!”
“Chester Potter!” “Chester Potter!” The worshippers recited the name again and again, soon joined by the warped faces on the altar. Some mysterious force seemed to attract a conscient here, having it descend upon the place.
“O’ lord… Arise from your slumber!” Schliff’s hands and legs began to tremble with excitement…
“The false god’s ceremony has already started! Stop them!” The elites of the two churches had already reached the castle under Romese’s...