The lord lucifer morning star and his almighty power,
release this woman!
The voices echoed through the grand chamber, a strange mixture of chants and defiance bouncing off the ornate walls. Two men stood at the foot of a lavish bed, their faces twisted in focus and desperation. The room itself was magnificent, reminiscent of an ancient eastern kingdom's castle, bathed in the pale glow of a full moon hanging high in the sky. Every corner gleamed with elegance, from the intricate tapestries to the gold-framed mirrors reflecting the moonlight, but the serene beauty of the place was disturbed by the unsettling energy in the air.
The men were locked in a grim ritual, their words laced with the weight of something dark, something ancient. One of them, a tall figure with a stern expression and a red hue clouding one of his eyes, kept his gaze fixed on the young woman tied to the bed. His voice, sharp and unwavering, filled the space with a repeated prayer:
"Pray for us."
