The Cult of Demon Worshippers

Every living thing knew how to adapt for survival. Plants adapted to their environment to ensure the continuation of their species. Animals, both large and small, adapted to the forest to survive. Humans adapted to the society around them to avoid becoming outcasts. Even demons, too, knew how to adapt.

With the help of a group of humans, Sabam, Farcia’s half-brother, had begun to understand more about the world of magic—its magical forms, the cultures of the kingdom he resided in, the structure of governance, and the language humans used to communicate in this magical world. By now, Sabam could even speak a little of the human language.

“How is your progress?”

A strange accent came from the mouth of the demon, a half-flame-dragon, half-black-claw-wolf hybrid, who sat on a throne-like chair. His amber eyes gazed at the middle-aged man standing before him, void of any murderous intent. It was clear that Sabam didn’t see this man as mere food, unlike the other humans he had killed.