THE CONTRACTOR

"OF ALL the body you could possess, why does it have to be a Solfrid?" Trevor asked, scoffing when the Ancient Devil appeared before him. "Your existence is already annoying. But you're making me want to kill you now."

The Ancient Devil just laughed at him. "You can't even lift a finger, Trevor. How could you kill me?"

"Don't tempt me. I don't mind dying earlier if it means dragging you back to hell," he said threateningly. For someone who was lying down on his "deathbed," he sure sounded vindictive. "I can do that out of spite."

Again, the Ancient Devil laughed. "You're pathetic. Dying from simply touching Impure Mana is embarrassing. I wonder why Nichole de Moonasterio chose you as her successor."

He couldn't refute what the Ancient Devil said.

Although he could argue that the Impure Mana that the crows used was different and deadlier than normal, it was still embarrassing to die from it.