[Mountain Slopes]

"Good," Ilpholin says. "People without doubt are fools. I guarantee you that demon who thinks itself a god considers itself above mortal laws and kin has no doubt about itself. It cannot conceive its own downfall."

Ilpholin clenches a fist, knuckle growing white. "It will be all the more satisfying then, when we obliterate its followers, tear down its walls, and show it the stench of its own mortality as its life is snuffed out by your hands."

The nymph takes a steadying breath, letting the red creep back from her vision. "I have heard of these temples. We will find them soon enough. I tire of playing for the defense."