"Ready for what? To be the beneficiary of everyone's sacrifice?" Bul-Kathos asked with a hint of disdain, his eyes fixed on the Cube.
"Your sacrifice will be no less than ours, so what is the problem with being a beneficiary?" Volrusk's voice turned urgent. "Hurry up and prepare! Take up the mantle of the Immortal King. You can't leave me, a prisoner of this mountain, to carry a double burden forever. Accelerate, Bul-Kathos!"
"Were you always this talkative when you were young? I don't need you to tell me how to do things. At the very least, I'm acting a lot smarter than you."
Bul-Kathos reached out and grasped Kanai's Cube. His fingers trembled; he was using immense strength just to hold the artifact.
"What are you waiting for? For me to say goodbye to Kanai?" Volrusk roared irritably, then went silent.
Bul-Kathos glanced at Liz Salman behind him, feeling a surge of irritation. The young woman stood there, eyes vacant and full of despair. Her lack of reaction to the world around her annoyed him.
Tragedies like this happened every moment in Sanctuary. A human becomes a pawn of a demon in an instant and kills their loved ones. A child watches their mother eat their father's flesh. These things were common.
Demons deserved no mercy. And those who gave up on themselves... helping them often felt like a futile effort. Nephalem rarely spent their time helping others regain their conviction. It took too long. It was better to spend that time killing a few more demons. At least demons stay dead when you kill them. Comforting a broken soldier didn't guarantee they'd ever stand up again. It wasn't a question of who was more important, but of where a contribution had the most impact.
"This explosion was a lot simpler than the one at the Worldstone," Bul-Kathos muttered. He sent Liz out of the Rift. No one left alive in the Rift would die or be sacrificed today. Orek would see to that. Sacrifice should be limited to the few.
Bul-Kathos tightened his fist. Let the only sacrifice be me, he thought. It was a thought shared by everyone willing to lay down their life. As for those who screamed "Sacrifice yourself for the good of the world"—those people were evil. Self-sacrifice is justice and kindness; volunteering others for sacrifice is merely cowardice.
"Kanai, we're going to be inseparable from now on. I hate this feeling," Bul-Kathos said quietly. It was his eulogy. "I thought you old fogies wouldn't need to show up until I completely failed. Why do you always plan so far ahead? What did you leave me?"
He reached into Kanai's Cube and pulled out the remains. It was a gem radiating a deep, azure light, and a small vial of orange-yellow liquid.
"Equilibrium... is it?"
Bul-Kathos popped the blue gem into his mouth like a piece of candy and swallowed it. Then he downed the vial. The blue glow was the prize Kanai had taken from Ithael, the Archangel of Balance. All of Ithael's lost power was here. The Great Elder Kanai had been unimaginably powerful in his era.
"This is so boring it makes me sick," Bul-Kathos spat, struggling slightly to swallow the items.
"Don't you agree... Diablo?"
As he spoke the name, a Great Demon—resembling the Prime Evil of old—appeared nearby.
Fear Incarnate.
It was a demon created by Diablo using himself as a blueprint. Long ago, he had tried to resurrect using Leah's body. These "Fear Incarnates" were constructed from the blood of Adria and Maghda. Diablo had possessed Aidan's will many times; that bloodline had not gone to waste.
"Bul-Kathos, it is a pleasure to see you," the demon said, speaking with Diablo's voice. These demons were like signal towers for the Lord of Terror, allowing him to possess them and act as he pleased.
"Diablo, the pleasure is mine," Bul-Kathos replied, unhooking the legendary Mountain-Sunderer axe from his belt.
"To let your consciousness feel my fury before I truly kill you... there is nothing better! Ha!"
With a thunderous battle cry, he swung. The axe, wreathed in a lethal chill, slammed into the demon's mouth. Bul-Kathos didn't want to hear another word from the devil. This creature was beyond forgiveness; it deserved only death.
"My consciousness cannot be killed here, so I know what you have obtained. I will be waiting for you... Bul-Kathos..."
The axe shattered the demon's head. In the freezing wind, it became a frozen statue before Bul-Kathos crushed it into fragments with his boot.
"Next time, the pain won't be this simple! Bastard!"
Bul-Kathos turned his gaze toward the Holy Mountain. The shockwaves were about to level everything. It was time to deal with the aftermath.
There was one more person he needed to see—the one who always announced victory and the end of the Rift.
Bul-Kathos wanted to ask about the "Goddess of Thieves."
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