Confronted by the Soul Devourer, no one in the Nethergate Sect dared an impetuous move.
Neville's disciples flanked him, faces set and bloodless, stunned that the monster had chosen their sect as his throne.
"Well?" the Soul Devourer asked, voice unhurried yet sprawling like shadow across the marble floor. "Will you submit, or will you die?"
Neville's brow tightened. He had witnessed, firsthand, the unseen force behind Jared, power capable of wiping an entire sect from existence with a passing thought. Yet refusal here meant slaughter at the hands of the Soul Devourer.
Caught between two cataclysms, Neville hovered on the blade of an impossible choice, his mind racing for a path that did not end in ruin.
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