The colossal avatar of Malakor thrashed against the crimson clouds. His towering projection distorted as panic fractured his magical concentration.
"You cannot steal my vanguard," Malakor screamed. His voice shook the bloodstained grating of the central gatehouse. "I will buy them back right now."
Leo stood in the muddy trench of the dry moat. He tilted his head back and watched the desperate deity.
"The divine market is always open to a higher bid," Leo replied. His voice carried across the silent battlefield. "Submit your offer."
Malakor swiped his giant glowing hands through the sky. He summoned his own master interface to initiate a systemic override.
"I bid fifteen million points of faith," Malakor declared. He raised his voice to ensure the scrying galleries in the City of Gods
