Amid the raging inferno, Gilbert's wings trembled slightly as he held the line, golden flames straining against the endless surge of emerald hellfire. His grip on the sword tightened, his jaw set, but a faint murmur slipped from his lips despite himself.
"I did not think… he would be this strong…"
The words were low, almost lost within the roar of clashing flames. But Duke Haborym heard them.
All three of his heads shifted at once, six burning eyes locking onto Gilbert through the storm of fire. A slow, deliberate smile crept across his faces, one that carried both amusement and contempt.
"Did you truly believe," his voices overlapped, echoing with oppressive weight, "that an archangel can defeat a demon noble?"
Gilbert's expression hardened instantly. His wings flared, golden light intensifying around him as he pushed back against the inferno.
"Michael did," he shot back, his voice firm despite the pressure bearing down on him.
