Sheep Head Dean and Pig Head Man were standing in a desolate room.
The entire floor was covered with a large number of patterns.
"The blood from the well is enough now," Pig Head Man said in a muffled voice in front of the other, surprisingly tinged with a hint of fear, "According to the ancient tome, the ritual should take place tonight..."
The Dean's voice was ancient, "What about those two..."
Pig Head Man shivered slightly, his eyes shifting as he looked toward the closed door, "I don't know; the game should be almost up."
He couldn't help but curse, "Those fools better not have gotten so carried away that they forgot how important today is."
Dean's eyes lifted slightly, pupils filled with emotionless murk and dead silence. His voice, hoarse like insects gnawing at tree roots: "Go check."
"Yes."
With his tall, rugged body, Pig Head Man dragged his heavy steps outside.
He had just pushed open the door.