A Lower Demon (10)

Azrakel sighed loudly, like someone who was fed up with something and just wanted to end it. It pressed to its feet, and Seung tightened his grip on the dagger. They looked at each other, despite the long distance between them. The faint light of the darkened atmosphere traced the contours of the demon's muscles, so sharply that Seung could see them clearly, almost as if they were closer than they actually were.

'Is he readying his dagger for me?' Azrakel thought, a sardonic grin tugging at its lips.

Seung felt it—he was at risk of an unexpected attack. He had to decide: move from his position or keep his guard high.

'I should head to the mountain peak instead...'

His legs screeched backward as his body bent, ready to launch into motion. But before he could move, a calm, authoritative voice echoed behind him.

"Save yourself the stress. I'm here."