"Bastards..."
Elorm shouted, banging his fist on a table he was seated behind. The table shattered, and splinters flew all around.
His expression showed fury and anger, so untamed that if any poor soul were around, he would have unleashed that pent-up anger on them. Luckily, he was alone, and so the table took the blame.
A few weeks ago, when word reached him that the Paragon had arrived on the Ancient Battlefield and had gone after the Twin Dagger Fiend, he contacted a team of demons known as the 10th Demon Brigade to make sure he died no matter what.
Back then, these demons were so happy that they would get to kill the Paragon, who is a natural enemy of their demon race, while also getting paid.
And so, to Elorm, the Paragon was as good as dead.
If the Twin Dagger Fiend failed to kill him, his hired demon team would get the job done.
Fast forward, the day had come, and what he wanted to see and hear wasn't what had happened.
