‘They all bring human flesh in their stomachs as an offering,’ whispered Jufus, the eternal guide. ‘They lie down here and wait to die, that’s the only way for them to deliver the offering, in exchange for which they receive nothing. Such is the power of the Lords.’

The ritual of transformation is very rarely seen, as I learned from Jufus, who continued to whisper in my ear. It is rare for maguses of such a caliber to embark on an Abaddon Travels trip, but when they do, it provides an additional wonder to a trip already filled with monstrous delights.

The old people started the ritual right away, paying no attention whatsoever to our presence. In a way, the two of them had always been alone on this journey. We had traveled on the same road, but not together. Especially considering that their goals were opposite to the rest of the group’s.

The preparation for the ritual and the summoning of the Servant takes time. It mainly consists of chanting, strange dance moves, fucking, and drawing blood. We watched the whole thing apathetically from the edge of the tree line. By then my attention was mostly focused on my hunger, but I didn’t take my eyes off the pensioners, even if I couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing.

An important tip: whatever danger you find yourself in, and however tired you feel, you shouldn’t miss any chance to admire the horrors of the mountain, since that is why you are there. Even in your last moments you might see and experience things that add to your knowledge and enrich your life. Don’t worry about death; it’s just an unavoidable nuisance.

In time the pensioners’ efforts bore fruit, and a High Servant of the Nameless Lords began to approach from within the cave. The air became thicker around us, worms crawled out of the ground beneath our feet. We heard distant screams coming from the woods as even the cannibal tribes hailed the coming of the Servant from afar.

Eventually, the High Servant stepped out of the cave. My skull nearly exploded with a sudden stab of pain. No matter how hard I tried I was incapable of focusing my vision on the Servant’s material body; it always seemed slightly out of focus. This might be a means of self-preservation; the brain refuses to admit what the eyes see, in order to preserve the semblance of the normality of the world.

Nevertheless, let’s not forget even now that we had come because we wanted to see. Well, let us see, or at least let us try our best, because the moment we crossed the border into this country we had already paid the ultimate price. We had already lost everything, so there was nothing left to lose.