Your Majesty, Dinner Is Ready.

I became a cultist who worships an evil god—
…in a world where the authority of that very god has fallen to the lowest depths, crushed beneath the light of the good gods.
Now is the age of balance, where even cultists are no longer objects of persecution.
In Plethica, the city of harmony where countless labyrinths lurk beneath its shining streets, one must offer human sacrifices just to make a living as an explorer.
“Why didn’t you take off the head before presenting it?”
“That one’s too ugly. Bring me someone prettier next time.”
“U-um… this one feels a little undercooked….”
…Aren’t you all being just a bit too picky with your offerings?