Killing the bat was only the first step of his big plan in the demons grave. Michael didn't slow down or seek shelter despite the raging storm and the heavy rain. Granted, the storm and the rain made the terrain wet and walking difficult, but it also terrified the monsters. Everywhere Michael looked, he saw no monster. Even the colossal bull he saw from the mountain was nowhere to be seen. Lightning cracked the red sky, sending heaven's light through the storms. Even the rain came in orchestrated rhythm, appearing as the master of the scene yet arriving on unheard cues. The wind ran as if it had been restrained for time out of mind, and it was determined to outrun any chaser. The sound of it was a strange song, as if howling yearned for a melody. Michael was completely drenched in the rain.
"We've been walking for hours," Sarba said, sitting on Michael's shoulder.
