The scent of smoke tickled Alex's nostrils as he opened his eyes. A second ago, his vision contained the ashes of the djinn's physical body. However, now, it fell upon the scene of a few fat pigs smoking cigarettes.
"Fat Pigs" wasn't an exaggeration; neither was it metaphorical.
Within Alex's gaze, there were truly humanoid pigs dressed in dark robes who smoked cigarettes while at the amethyst-eyed boy, who'd manifested from nothingness. Judging from their expressions, they were bewildered.
"How the fu–"
"Poffsnuckle did something, I'm calling it!"
"That magician bastard can't do something like this. This has to be the graces of Yog-Sothoth!"
"Don't promote your God in front of me! This is the doing of Moccus!"
The two bickered, uncaring of the fact that Alex had drawn his sword. With narrowed eyes, the amethyst-eyed boy extended Durendal, placing the tip of the silver blade on the throat of one of the pigs.