Cult Of The Lambdata Edycji: 23-01-2023, 21:27p... 🆒

Before them knelt Ratau, no longer the mentor, but a vessel of trembling devotion.

As the Lamb walked away, the bell atop the temple tolled—not for a wedding, and not for a feast. It tolled for the hunt. Eligos looked at his hands and realized he wasn't a follower anymore. He was a resource.

"And if I do not return, Great Leader?" Eligos asked, his voice shaking. Cult of the LambData edycji: 23-01-2023, 21:27P...

"The Old Belief is a rot," the Lamb’s voice rang out, devoid of its former innocence. "And I am the blade that prunes it."

"You have been faithful, Eligos," the Lamb whispered, their eyes reflecting the void. "But faith without proof is merely a dream. Tomorrow, you shall lead the crusade into the Silk Cradle. You shall find the heart of Shamura." Before them knelt Ratau, no longer the mentor,

That night, the Lamb visited Eligos in the sleeping quarters. The Crown pulsed with a rhythmic, crimson light.

The Lamb leaned in, the scent of wild grass and old blood clinging to them. "Then you shall serve the cult in the soil, feeding the pumpkins that sustain us. Nothing is wasted. Everything is for the One Who Waits." Eligos looked at his hands and realized he

Deep in the woods of Darkwood, a young follower named Eligos watched from the treeline. He remembered the Lamb as the one who saved him from the sacrificial pyre of Leshy. He had loved the Lamb for their mercy. But lately, the mercy had been replaced by a cold, calculating efficiency. The "Sacrifice of the Flesh" was no longer a whispered myth; it was a weekly occurrence.