From the latest chapter, Alister encounters some cultists.

"The impact was a sharp, searing agony. He felt a rib crack. For a moment, the world swam in a haze of pain. The performance was over.

Alistair slumped against the stone, a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth. He looked up at the Wight looming over him, and his charming, terrified mask fell away, replaced by something ancient and utterly devoid of mercy.

He began to laugh. A low, guttural chuckle that held no humour.

"You shouldn't have done that," he whispered.

The Wight raised its fist for another blow, but it froze. A new energy was radiating from the man at its feet. The air grew cold, heavy.

Alistair’s eyes, once a charming blue, now began to glow with a malevolent, crimson light. He pushed himself to his feet, the pain in his side seemingly forgotten. The whispers of the ancient, hungry spirits of this place were screaming in his mind, but another, darker voice was screaming louder.

"Blood for the Blood God," he snarled, the voice not his own, but something deeper, older, a guttural sound torn from the throat of a beast.

He moved, no longer a clumsy fool but a blur of demonic speed. He met the Wight's descending fist with his own. There was a sickening crunch, not of his bones, but of the creature's. He drove his fist through its stone-like hand, then tore its arm from its socket. The Wight let out a silent, ethereal scream as its animating energy dissipated, and it collapsed into a pile of dust and armour.