Tainted

The curse demon hissed at the sight of me, her eyes narrowing. "Why have you brought a Tainted here, Devoted?" she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Is there not enough filth here already?"

She swept a hand towards the other demonkin, whose expression tightened. They didn't react further but lowered their eyes, refusing to challenge her.

I expected Fyren to erupt in anger or at least defend me, but he barely spared her a glance. Instead, he strode into the pavilion, his towering demon form casting a long shadow over the others.

"Apostle of Curses," he said, his voice resonating with power, "What is it you wish to know? If your only intent is to insult my Oracle, be grateful if I don't incinerate your entire army as I leave."