Xedeth stood hunched over, his massive form heaving with each labored breath. Sweat and blood mingled on his brow, trickling down the side of his face. His crimson eyes, though still blazing with fury, were dimming. His once fearsome aura, the power that had made entire kingdoms tremble, was now flickering like a dying flame.
Mazuka, standing just out of reach of Xedeth's blade, could see the toll the fight was taking on the Demon King. The once-mighty ruler of demons was exhausted, his movements slower, more erratic. Each minute that passed was draining him further, and it wasn't just the physical toll of the fight—it was the relentless magic he had been forced to use, the constant defenses against three skilled opponents.