Samuel was still deep inside Daemon's inner world, where he'd spent nearly a year fighting to break through the thick demonic barrier around his core. He kept forcing in holy energy, again and again—until finally, the resistance cracked.
The core began to glow faintly. The sea of blood surrounding it rippled violently. Suddenly, blood-red hands emerged, clawing their way out, screaming in anguish as they reached for Samuel.
"What the hell now?!" he cursed, leaping back as the grotesque hands tried to drag him under. His body flared with holy light, pushing them back.
From a distance, he saw the core starting to mend itself. The cracks were closing, and the tiny spark of divine energy inside it pulsed stronger.
"How many people did this kid kill... for the hatred to be this deep?" Samuel muttered, eyes narrowed.
He snapped back to the physical world with a gasp, coughing blood.
Nyxtriel was at Daemon's side instantly. "Are you alright?"
