Hazon and Barkial frowned as they watched Vlad halt the march. Every muscle in their bodies screamed to press forward. All they wanted was to reach the tomb, seize the corpse of the Primordial God, and leave this cursed sacred dimension behind. Every step of the journey had been torment, and now their bodies were shattered—wounded to the core, sustained only by raw fury and stubborn pride.
For them, the sooner it ended, the better.
The Legendary Devils offered no objection because there were none left to speak. Each and every one of them, including the Sector Masters, had fallen along the way. One by one, chamber after chamber, they had been crippled by wounds and finally devoured by Vlad's Eye of Gluttony. Their souls had become fuel, their memories reduced to fragments within the furnace of his being.
