The process of the Bloodline Override was long, agonizingly so. What made it feel endless wasn't just the ritual itself, but the unrelenting pain. Tave had lost all sense of time. Minutes, hours… it all blurred into a haze of burning nerves and twitching muscles.
And this wasn't even his first time.
But this time, failure wasn't an option.
He couldn't stop the ritual midway. He knew the consequences. If he did, he wouldn't just lose the demon's essence. He might suffer permanent damage. Side effects. Corruption without the power to balance it. A curse instead of a blessing.
That would be worse than death.
His right temple throbbed with stabbing pain. Something was definitely growing there. And yeah, Tave had prepared himself for this. The worst-case scenario: a horn. A real, visible, unmistakable horn.
He hadn't exactly planned out how he'd explain that to anyone.
