While he would've usually rushed out without a moment's hesitation, Erviel forced himself to remain crouched behind the pillar. Approaching was more tempting than he could truly fathom, his scale-like exterior quivering at the light of the crimson orb. Yet interrupting the ritual at this point would surely prove futile, and he had no idea what was inside that odd cocoon.
Maw clenched with a squeak, he peered out from behind the pillar once more to observe the chaos.
In his moment of indecision the glimmering crimson orb had seemed to grow even brighter, which seemed to have reduced the horde of masked cultists to a state of tranquility that was a complete far cry from their lust-filled moans seconds earlier. Despite all that, the robed figure behind the plinth had continued his dark chanting; arms raising above his head.
With a breath, the masked leader's malison quieted; arms falling to his sides in a dramatic flourish. The pile of Corruptive essence that had pooled around the plinth ignited by his incantations, slowly but surely rose to defy gravity itself as it flooded into the continuously shimmering orb.
The silence that had fallen across the masked group was dispelled as hushed, and evidently excited whispers were exchanged; their focus situated upon the collective mass formed of their essence in apprehension, seeming to grow more aroused by the second.
Enveloping the crimson orb, the layer of Corruptive essence had done little to dull the piercing light it radiated; and if anything, only seemed to accentuate it.
A flick of the masked leader's hand, and the coated orb rose into the air before the now stilled cocoon; struggles either having ceased due to hopelessness, or resignation. Small droplets of Corruptive residue trickled from the dark orb to coat the bound entity atop the plinth, the blackened color of the solidified goo gaining a velvet tinge as the two opposing substances met.
Another slew of incantations slipped from beneath the cult leader's cross-shaped mask, whose left arm raised. Clawed digits outstretched and padded palm flat towards the ground, a simple gesture and the orb descended; the cocoon's shifting exterior parting to reveal a mass of tendrils that hungrily latched onto the coated mass, a squelch followed by a wet snap echoing throughout the chamber as the orb was eagerly absorbed.
A pleased laugh spilled from the masked leader, excited yells from his underlings growing as the cocooned entity began to squirm once more. The black exterior of the Corruptive mass now tinged with vermilion accents, the faint red glow of the orb continued to shimmer.
Erviel's lavender eyes widened as he could make out a vague silhouette from within. He had already assumed the entity encased was something distinctly humanoid, though now with a faint shadow he could almost tell what lay inside...
From beneath his black robe, the cult leader withdrew a black crossed-shaped mask with a singular silver eye at its center; one that bore a clear resemblance to the ones he and his cohorts brandished. With it positioned at the top of the cocoon, how this ritual was intended to be concluded was obvious; as were the implications.