Damian used both hands to push open the stone door, revealing a large table before him. It resembled a macabre feast where all the attendees wore masks to conceal their faces.
The same mask adorned each person: that of a goat. Except for one, who sat at the head of the table, in the most important chair.
It was Miller. His mask resembled a demon, possibly his true form.
"You've arrived," Miller said, rising from his seat. "Please, have a seat."
Fear tried to engulf Damian, but he remained composed. Those masked individuals didn't appear formidable. Only Miller posed a threat.
Without uttering a word, Damian moved towards one of the vacant chairs and took a seat.
Everyone present was intrigued by Damian's true identity. Miller had informed them prior to his arrival, and the only thing they knew was that Damian was skilled in necromancy and blood magic.
