Back in the forest close to Velmoria.
The demon's rage turned into power as its dragon-sized body convulsed, shrinking with sickening cracks of bone and hisses of steam.
Flesh folded in on itself, wings vanishing into its back, and horns retracting like broken spears.
By the time the flames cleared, what stood in the crater was a man-shaped figure, obsidian skin streaked with molten lines, its size human… but its pressure was far beyond what it had been at full bulk.
Air buckled around it. Gravity howled like an invisible storm.
The demon flexed its clawed fingers, voicing a guttural rumble that shook the wasteland.
"This power… I can only use it once a month. It burns my life to—"
Before it could complete its words—
"Blah blah blah!" Crisaius barked, already charging, twin spirit blades crackling with black thunder. "A wise man, or a boy, once said villains die monologuing, so let's hurry your funeral, huh?!"
