Of course, the Doom Wight wasn’t the same as other common evil spirits. It had been refined from thousands of souls and stuffed to the brim with malice. Despite being a disposable summons, it was difficult for anyone below master level to survive against the Doom Wight.

Unfortunately, it had encountered the wrong person.

Jjeok.

The tongue emerged from the hole in Theo’s left hand. On the other hand, the image of terror, the Doom Wight, was astonished to see the greedy tongue. The greedy tongue was the door to the abyss, the storage place of the grimoire which ate grimoires, where Death's Worship was kept. Anything which fell into the category of magic was a gift for it to devour.

... Krr.

Long forgotten emotions arose in the evil spirit that had been born for the sole purpose of slaughter. It was the primal instinct of prey in front of a predator, a recognition of a being on a higher tier of the food chain.

Fear.

Kiaaaaaaaaa―! 

The shadow retreated. It continued retreating desperately, even refusing the warlock’s command. However, it was already caught. If not, it would’ve escaped to the horizon at lightning speed. As a shadow of pure malice, it knew...