The blow, backed by my magic, took him in the jaw, square and solid, lifting him from his feet and sending him back into
Henemordonin. My grandfather cursed as Elphremantic landed on him, sending them both sprawling backward onto First Seat.
I shook out my hand, still grinning. "Oh, sorry," I said, "were you thinking I hit like a girl?" Magic pooled around me,
the touch of Demonicon's power begging me to release it so it could return. But I wanted Henemordonin to give it back on
purpose, by choice. I wanted him beaten and begging me for his life. And I would do whatever necessary to make him grovel
on his hands and knees at my feet before he returned what was mine.
Elphremantic regained his feet, roughly brushing at his clothing, dabbing at the blood running from his lip. "You bitch,"
he snarled. "I'll crush you and make you my slave."
"Tried that already, didn't you, little boy?" I prodded him with energy. "How did that work out for you?"