Caliste did not take the blow in silence. He twisted as far as the gate at his back allowed and bled as much force as he could from Ketal’s fist. However, it was not enough. With the door hard against his spine, he could not roll through the impact. The shock forced its way into his body in a brutal wave.0

Caliste coughed up blood. The strike tore through him. Even for a Demon Lord, Caliste’s body was only a demon’s vessel rather than the true source of his authority. Against Ketal’s strength, that vessel had no chance to endure. He clenched his jaw and drew a dagger from his breast with a sharp motion. The blade darted for Ketal’s throat.0

Ketal shook his forearm and turned his wrist in a smooth, pulley-like rotation that carried the dagger away from its line. The blade skimmed past. He brought his fist up again and drove it forward. His knuckles met Caliste’s chest.0

The gate could not bear it. With a low thunder that shook the stones, the great doors of the Demon King’s castle shattered into a spray of iron and splinters. Caliste tumbled through the wreckage, rolled once, and sprawled amid the fragments.0

He coughed again and again while red spattered the floor. Ketal extended his hand. The bracelet on his wrist flashed. The axe leapt from where it had fallen and settled into his palm, as if the weapon had simply remembered its proper place. However, Ketal...0