A slender, translucent, pale-yellow snake swam slowly through the water.
SPLASH—
A hand with long, slender knuckles reached out from the darkness and snatched the water snake. A nail clipped off its head, and the remaining portion was put to its owner's mouth and slurped down like a noodle.
After letting out a satisfied burp, the hand's owner said slowly, "The great ones will be descending soon. Is everything prepared?"
"Father, everything is ready. The weight of the ore this time is double that of last time. The contribution should be enough."
"That's good... Only by completing their tasks can we survive. Your third son is almost of age, isn't he? I see he's clever and capable. We can send him over to the great ones." The owner of the voice turned his head, revealing a stooped, old Fishman with cloudy, murky-yellow eyes.
He was draped in a resplendent, colorful scaled robe, and on his head was a bone crown that only a High Priest could wear.
