The tip of the knife touched the cold stone bricks. A drop of scarlet liquid condensed and fell, and a slight "pop" sound amplified in the silence. Outside the door, heavy footsteps were getting closer and closer.
Ryan's breath hitched. His chest burned from the ropes that bound him. The hand that had been freed still had the numbness from extracting [Abyss Gaze] and gripped the handle of the knife tightly. This is a sacrificial short sword with intricate carvings on the blade.
The leader of the cult, his robe stained with blood, stood frozen. His previous target, the fallen accomplice, was lying in a pool of spreading dark liquid. The leader's head shook violently. He looked around in confusion.
