The woman remained standing at the foot of the altar.
The frost creeping across the parish walls continued spreading quietly behind her while snowflakes drifted lazily through the open doorway. Her white eyes remained fixed on Faceless without blinking.
Several seconds passed, then she slowly nodded and a mischievous smile appeared on her lips.
Their attack had been delayed for months because of one simple problem. Nobody could determine which of the two Princes of Hell appearing publicly was the original.
The rings concealed far too much.
Even when Damian or Faceless used their abilities, observers could only detect the power itself.
They could never determine who truly cast it. Every investigation ended in contradictions or created more confusion.
It had taken months of surveillance, infiltration, and analysis to finally reach a conclusion.
"Only the original can summon the Throne of Power." The woman smiled proudly.
