O my Lord

Beseech your child with love

Destroyer of life

Connoisseur of emptiness

O my Lord, your child is begging

For all existence is in your feast

"I see you desire a gift from me," a heavy, near grumbling voice echoed around dark corners, where there was nothing but blood red and dark colour clashing together. The air started thinning, everyone in each corner started breathing heavily. Few even tried to hold their breath, as their Lord's power will be tremendously overpowering for humans. A yellow flash escaped from a pitch-black sphere on the altar, then, at a split second, the wall directly facing the altar exploded, creating a massive hole on it, rubbles scattered around alongside a human body whose limbs and torso had been separated after the yellow flash accidentally hit him. Even after a huge explosion and human blood scattered around, still, no scream had been heard. No sane person would let their careless voice disturb this sacred ritual.

"It seems like your offering is not what I desired."

"I-- I am terribly sorry for my worthless offering! I shall--"

"Enough, your apology does not matter. Now, what do you longed for, my child?" each of his words sounded calm but holding doom in each word, he spouted from inside the sphere. The man kneeling in front of the altar started sweating, he swallowed his saliva, but it didn't help. After witnessing the truth that his offering was not enough, he imagined the worst fate awaiting him. But he cannot imagine what would happen to him if he cancelled this ritual either.

He swallowed his fear, knowing there is no way out. He already imagined two fates in his head. First, he imagined his wish would be granted, his life would be prosperous, and his wife would be more than happy. He would obtain everything in this world, a lavish mansion, and a settled life when he didn't need to work at all. All he wanted was just money, an endless stream of money. But then, there was the chance of the other fate, where everything would vanish, including him.

He knew that he did not have time to think. He ought to utter his wish now. He opened his mouth, "I… I wished for wealth, my Lord."

"My child, it is indeed an easy request," the sound inside the sphere sounded quite pleasing. "Let me see if you are worthy of such trivial request."

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The sphere shone briefly with golden colour, and a piece of dark flesh appeared on the ground below it. The dark flesh slowly grew into a piece of meat and then morphed into a goat shaped monster, with no eyes and its horns growing from its mouth. Its fur looked very sharp, as if it was made from a pile of black needles.

"This is one of my minions. He will grant you wealth only if you are worthy of such thing."

The man was terrified. Even a goat, which the priest said to be the weakest minion, looked intimidating. The priest already instructed him to touch the goat horns. If he was worthy, the horns would turn into the most valuable matter for him to sell. Of course, all wealth he made would be his only.

The goat tapped the floor with its left front feet as it looked calm but silently staring at him. The man started sweating, his breath getting thinner. He raised his hand. The fate of prosperity was only from a small touch.

A simple touch from his middle finger made the goat bleat, the man backed off, but he cannot pull his middle finger off the horn. The horns retracted back to the goat's mouth, slowly dragging the man inside. As he knew it wouldn't end well, he tried pulling his hand, then kicking the goat, but even a forceful kick didn't budge the goat.

Slowly, his hand was swallowed inside the goat's mouth. He screamed desperately, "Help me! Oh my god, help me!"

"You are not worthy."

"NO! NO! Please save me, anyone!"

As he struggled and screamed frantically, the goat swallowed his entire body without leaving any trace. The goat morphed back into a dark flesh. The priest who kneeled behind the altar stood up and took the dark flesh.

"I am in no dire need of extra life for my goat," the voice inside the sphere said. The priest kneeled. He planted his face to the ground as he knew that he was also not safe from his God's anger.

"Please forgive this servant for his mistake. This servant is imperfect for such task, my Lord. This servant will not disappoint you anymore."

"I am not pleased with the sphere you provided."

"B—Begging for your forgiveness, My Lord!" the priest trembled. He closed his eyes, even if he already planted his face to the ground. A slight mistake meant death to him.

"I will grace you with a gift, a bride of mine, Lady Mephistopheles. She will ensure next rites will be sufficient. She ought to come tomorrow."

The priest raised his head when he heard it. He felt anger and jealousy. He knew a bride of his God meant he will be the second-in-command in his own sect. "This servant believes it can serve you independently, my lord."

"Are you unhappy with my gift?" the voice inside the sphere sounded unpleasant, calm, but threatening.

"N-NO! I am always grateful for my Lord's gift! Everyone here is thankful, my Lord!"

"Remember, her voice is my command."

Shortly after, the darkness started fading away. The pressure in the room dissipated as the black sphere trembled and shattered. Everyone fell on their knees. Even though they did this many times, they still couldn't withstand the air created by their God. The priest kicked the offering under the altar. He could not express his anger to his Lord. He loved his Lord more than anything, and his Lord decided to ditch him just because the sphere is not enough.

He was careless indeed, but being the second hurt his pride. He needed to make sure that the new bride wouldn't be able to overthrow him. Even if that means he'd made a scene to protect his power.

"Whoever this Bride he has, I will not be the second-in-command!"