Belakor Of Abaddon
Perseus's hand traced the blade, a knife at his side.
He had carried it just in case of emergency, and it seemed like it was about to be useful.
His magic was locked away thanks to the null field Tomato had cast, but his instincts and combat skills were sharp.
He had to rely on them now, more than ever.
The shadow demons swarmed him in the flickering chaos of the Non-Zone's core, their ethereal forms undulating like living shadows.
Their movements were swift, and deliberate, their attacks meant to distract him while one figure loomed in the distance. The elder demon. Perseus recognized him immediately.
The demon emerged from the darkness, his eyes glowing a deep, venomous red. "It's been a while, Perseus," the elder's voice slithered through the air, thick with malice. "I had hoped we wouldn't cross paths again."