Quinlan's mood was instantly ruined. Until a thought overwrote everything.
The succubus was having the time of her life.
Nyxara replied, and the playfulness was gone.
Her presence shifted against his mind. Warmer. Closer.
The warmth vanished.
The words landed with a weight that had nothing to do with volume. This was not the teasing succubus. This was the Primordial Demon of Lust who had watched countless chosen champions rise and fall, and who understood with absolute clarity that the ones who rose highest were the ones who bled for their own answers.
Velara watched them circle and gripped her staff tighter.
"So you do know this is heresy!" she screamed, her voice cracking for the first time. Her eyes locked on Black Fang with a fury that burned brighter than the golden light behind her. "You just admitted to understanding that what you're doing is unprecedented! No one has raised a blade against an Arch Priestess in over a thousand years! The Goddess shall smite you down for this blasphemy!"
Quinlan chuckled.
"You mean that hypocrite called Lilyanna? The one who is supposed to represent Purity but I think all she represents is the Concept of Mental Gymnastics." He rolled his shoulder, loosening the joint. "She already tried, by the way. Yet here I am."
Velara stared at him.
Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. The righteous fury on her face flickered and was replaced, briefly, by sheer bewilderment.
"Truly lunatics," she growled, steadying her staff. "I can't even begin to understand what you're talking about."
"All you need to understand," Black Fang interjected due to her rather limited patience for talking in such moments, "is that I'm taking your head today."
"So be it! I'll end your oppression, you pair of stains on the human race!" The Arch Priestess planted her feet. The cathedral pulsed behind her.
The two lunatics lunged.
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