However, the instruction remained that she whisper the Spell word, and so she did. She made as much effort as possible for it to sound like that of the Soul Devil, affectionate and inviting.
Lenny's hand paused in the air, and he quickly turned in the direction the name had come from.
Once again, the whisper floated through his ears.
Meanwhile, the gladiator who was about to be butchered hugged his knees tight. In his heart, he prayed to every superior being he had never heard of.
He even prayed to the god of the Mushroom paste he ate in the Arena.
Any one at all that would answer his humble pleas was prayed to.
And just like that, he waited and waited, but the death he anticipated did not come.
Those blood-dripping Katana blades did not fall.
Slowly, he opened his eyes.