The chamber still reeked of blood and scorched stone. Loren's body lay motionless in Lisa's care, his breaths shallow but steady, his sword beside him slick with the dark lifeblood of the slain wolf. Erebus's hulking corpse sprawled across the floor, black ichor seeping into the cracks like a spreading shadow.
And above it all, the devil's slow, deliberate applause echoed.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
The sound reverberated unnaturally, filling every corner of the vast chamber, demanding attention. The squad turned, wary and tense, their relief at Loren's survival replaced by the sharp awareness that their true enemy still sat on his throne of shadow.
The devil's lips curled into a faint smile, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Magnificent. Truly magnificent. To think that the boastful cub of a Platinum guildmaster would find his teeth at last. I admit—I did not expect him to rise so far." His voice was smooth, almost amused, but beneath the calm words was a current of lethal intent.
