Shir stood above the crowd, his sharp eyes sweeping over the sea of Templars below.
Their faces were flushed with emotion—rage, devotion, purpose.
He knew he had to act fast.
The passion in the air was strong now, but it wouldn't last forever. If he waited too long, the crowd's zeal would fade. Doubt could settle in. And if their willingness to sacrifice themselves wavered, even for a moment, the ritual could fail.
If the ritual didn't go as planned, it would make it harder—maybe even impossible—for his original self, God Raashim, to maintain the link between his Immortal Domain and the mortal realm of Baga Island.
Shir turned to his immediate subordinates and gave a sharp nod.
"Begin," he said. "Use everything we've prepared. Do it now."
His orders were clear. There was no room for hesitation.
The trusted followers around him moved quickly. Although some hesitated to kill their own fellow Templars, it didn't look like they had a choice.
