Sam looked around at the remains of the celestials he had defeated.
The battlefield was silent now, nothing left but ashes, smoke, and the faint shimmer of fading energy where divine bodies had fallen.
Two of them had been burned to nothing by the [Hatred Beam].
The others had been cut down by the [Hatred Sword].
Either way, they were gone, and it was his victory.
Even though he no longer had access to any of his skills or abilities, even though every advantage he had was stripped away, he had still managed to win.
[Disappointing. We should have been able to kill them with our bare fists.]
Sam rolled his eyes at the demon's voice in his mind.
It was easy for that thing to talk.
Without his [Class Skills] or the strange durability of the [Primordial Clone] that refused to die, this would have been over long ago.
He knew that better than anyone.
"Anyway," Sam muttered.
