It was depressing, but how could one even hope to win against a true god?
Damon had already accepted that he couldn't.
So he did the only thing he could with his limited power.
He walked into the chamber at the center of the Tomb of Lesser Gods.
The moment he stepped inside, the familiar voice of the blind old Daoist drifted through the quiet hall. The old man sat exactly where Damon had left him, bound in chains within the Lake of Tears, softly reciting a poem Damon had heard before.
"...The Weeping Star came first, and the god who gives names devoured its light. All names that followed were lies."
"...The Weeping Star came first, and the god with no name devoured its light. All names that followed were lies."
"...To speak his name is to invite him in."
"...So the goddess took it, carved it from the hearts of men and cast it into the void."
"...In oblivion, she bound them. In silence, she damned herself."
