"Hurry, Byron, we can't wait any longer."
Startled by the familiar voice that had almost claimed his life, Andrew shivered so violently he nearly shook his entire skeleton apart.
Without needing any reminder, Byron's gaze immediately locked onto the black Faustian Pact floating beside Velazquez.
After defeating the Governor of Havana, the entry [Why did you engrave your name on my pipe] had already taken effect.
In theory, he had replaced the man and gained ownership of the other half of the Faustian Pact.
The bloody signature of Velazquez at the bottom was reluctantly being replaced, bit by bit, by the golden "Byron Tudor."
Even the power of Order was expanding from this name as a center, dissipating much of the evil and twisted aura above it.
Order and chaos, Divinity and Beastliness, were showing signs of returning to balance.
"Come here."
Byron raised his hand and made a grasping motion toward the Faustian Pact.
