The silver-blooded corpse released a chilling wind as it rose from the dried pond. The entire cave started to shake as if it might crumble under the weight of evil. The men held their breaths as their minds went blank. At the front of the group, Sam knelt on the ground in fear. "Forgive me, master," he cried.
"Sam, what the hell are you doing?" Philip asked. He and the others shook their heads in shame; their leader had already surrendered, weakening their chance of survival. Sam, now on the ground, begged the silver-blooded corpse for forgiveness, ignoring their curses. "Always stand on the side of might," that was Sam's motto. He had heard about the Scarlet Moon Cult and knew that the demons could kill any member of a lower class. Furthermore, the silver-blooded corpse spoke with authority; he knew they were no match for it.
Marcus smiled cruelly. "This is the Lord Protector of the Scarlet Moon Cult. If you guys surrender now, maybe he will grant you a swift death."