Phanthom savored the experience, but even as the joy of the moment faded, a pang of regret entered his thoughts. Perhaps he had ended the general's journey too soon. Had he allowed the general more time to bask in the false adoration of the crowd, to believe in his greatness until the very last moment, the reward might have been even sweeter.
"I should have let him indulge in his spotlight until his death," Phanthom mused to himself. "His ambition would have been so much more… appetizing."
He glanced toward the portal leading to the Abyss, where Malzor, the fourth-stage gargoyle demon, commanded the demons. Malzor had ambition of his own—raw and unchecked—and Phanthom couldn't help but wonder what might happen if he played a role in helping Malzor fulfill that ambition. How much more satisfying would the reward be? How much more radiant would the golden light become?
