Holy war 12

Arriving in front of a small hill, the scene that met the Duke's eyes was one of devastation. Fires crackled amidst the rubble, casting eerie shadows over the lifeless bodies strewn about.

Despite the horror before him, the Duke struggled to keep pace with the demonic lady leading the way. She moved with an unsettling swiftness, as if driven by a force beyond mortal comprehension.

With each step, the Duke's breaths grew labored, his muscles protesting the exertion.

Yet, driven by a mixture of fear and determination, he pressed on.

The demonic lady glanced back at him, her eyes betraying a hint of concern.

"Are you sure you don't want me to carry you, Duke?" she inquired, her voice tinged with a strange mixture of compassion and mockery.