"It's been a long time since I last tasted the power of faith," the Fallen God said.
The Buried God didn't answer, only nodded slightly.
For the first time, his eyes glowed faintly.
He drove his sword into the ground, and with a voice that echoed like death itself through the souls of the world, he said,
"If faith is the root of your power… then I'll tear faith out from its very roots."
The earth split again. From within it, another river surged forth, the River of Faith, now silver and black.
Every prayer, every belief of mortal beings, was drawn out from the depths of existence.
"I thought they had destroyed that," the Buried God frowned. He hadn't expected the Fallen God to still have followers across the worlds.
The Fallen God spread his hands and whispered,
"Destroying faith in me isn't that easy."
At that moment, a crown of black flames formed above his head.
[ Crown Of The Fallen ]
