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“How did you get your hands on the Vessel, anyway?” said Germal. “It should have been guarded by a cluster of feldeaths.”

“Oh, you knew that, huh?” And a thought struck him. “Wait a minute! Don’t tell me! You went and tried to grab it yourself, didn’t you?! Only to find it missing after putting yourself in so much danger! Ahaha! That’s what happened, isn’t it?!”

Germal said no response, which prompted Morgunov to just keep laughing.

“That’s excellent!” said the Mad Demon. “Wish I’d been there to see you scurrying about like a scared mouse!”

“Tell me how you snuck it out,” said Germal.

“Curious, eh? Alright, fine. I lured a clew of worms over to distract the big fellas for me while I made off with the spoils. Which involved more than just the Vessel, by the way. In fact, I’d nearly forgotten about that old thing until you brought it up.”

“Ah...”

“So there. Satisfied yet?”

“I suppose so.”

“Good! Then we can be done with this whole thing and get back to the real world!”

“You have no further questions for me?” said Germal.

Morgunov paused. Truthfully, he wanted nothing more than to get back to ripping this guy in half as soon as possible, but he supposed he shouldn’t waste this opportunity while he had it. Plus, something else was occurring to him. “If you’re saying that, then you must have additional things to ask, mm?”

“Perhaps so. You are a font of knowledge, Demon. I should like to make use of you while I still can.”

“Ooh. A threat and flattery. What a charming devil you are, Germy. In that case, I’ll indulge you a bit longer. Tell me. What are the Furies, exactly? How do you define them?”

“I’m surprised you do not already know that.”

“Mayhaps I do. But I still want to know what your twisted and stupid perspective is.”

“Kehe. The Furies, dear Demon, are the great agents of Order. They are a troublesome collective that span the breadth of history, often linked together unwittingly. They are one--and also many.”

“Hmm. One and many, huh?”

“The collective supports the one. The emergent head of a given era. Only one exists at a time. It becomes the focal point to which flows all the troublesome toils of the others. And when the head is slain, another inevitably emerges. A hydra, of sorts. I am certain that you know exactly what I speak of. And that I am not lying, yes?”