Liam's gaze locked on the female heretic, his eyes slowly trailing over the black marks that slithered across her pale skin.
They coiled along her cheeks like parasitic veins, writhing as if alive—thick, bold scars of darkness.
They marred what might have once been a beautiful face, twisting it into something strange, almost tragic.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her, then shifted to Jaegel.
The grotesque heretic had his mouth gaping open in shock, spittle oozing down his absurdly long, worm-like tongue. The tongue twitched with every breath, like it had a mind of its own.
Disgust welled up in Liam's stomach. He turned back to the woman and suddenly asked, "Why is it that some of you heretics always have weird side effects when you get stronger?"
The question cut through the tension like a blade. The woman flinched, blinking as if she hadn't processed the words.
Then her heart skipped a beat.
