Each step Duke took made the shadow torches on the altar tremble violently, as if even the flames themselves were bowing to him.
When he finally stopped in front of the high platform, the old man kneeling on the ground finally spoke with a trembling voice, filled with extreme awe, fanatical devotion, and a sense of a long-cherished wish fulfilled.
"Great Lord of the Dark Abyss! Your most faithful servant, Shadow High Priest Marcus, welcomes the descent of my lord!"
Marcus's voice choked halfway through, and his graying head forcefully struck the cold obsidian ground with a crisp thud, leaving a bloodstain on his forehead, but he didn't care, bowing a second, then a third time, each time exerting all his strength, as if only this most primitive body language could express his current inner excitement.
