Yarin's POV:
The black light surged, dazzling like the sun for an instant, then condensed into a dizzying black spark, only to abruptly vanish.
People watched in astonishment at the changes within the ritual circle, as if questioning: had it failed again?
No, I could feel it clearly, a dark force inside me was attempting to communicate. The ritual was successful; I had successfully summoned the evil god—or rather, his spokesperson.
"Good morning, dear Prince," Linda's voice echoed in my ear. "I've been waiting for you for a long time. You've arrived much later than I anticipated."
"...Do you realize you're just clinging to your last hope? Azazel is destined to die, and even the gods can't avoid that fate."
