In the secret world, time flowed faster.
"Mother of the World, this is the altar you requested…"
On the outskirts of a sprawling city, hidden deep within a sealed valley, Trulgren stood atop a massive altar carved with ancient demonic runes. As the leader of the ceremony, he raised his hands with solemn reverence, his eyes burning with a fanatical light. Before him, a ritual on a grand scale was about to begin, a ceremony said to reach the will of the Mother of the World herself.
Hundreds of people knelt before the altar. Their wrists and ankles were bound by runic chains that glowed faintly with crimson light. Their terrified gasps and muffled cries filled the air.
That fact alone made the ritual an abomination.
In this world, offerings to the Mother of the World were symbolic, bloodless and purified. To offer living beings was to mock the divine law. Any who dared attempt it would be condemned as heretics and burned alive for blasphemy.
