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Silence reigned for a brief moment.
"Hey, why are you ignoring me?"
The lich that was standing here right now was at the transcendent level of the Eighth Circle. His skill in necromancy was unmatched, and he had his legions by his side, earning hatred and resentment from many others. He was Deian, the King of the Dead!
"Cough! Perhaps you confused me with someone else," he croaked.
"You’ve gotta be kidding me. Don’t you know who I am?" Davey inquired.
"Cough! I do not," he wheezed.
Yet here he stood, wheezing… The cause of all this humiliation was the accursed monster before him. Deian could say with confidence that he had almost driven the First Saintess to her death, so he should have been a symbol of terror. However, one person seemed to be the exception.
"What is happening…?" Iro watched Davey and Deian, sprawled on the ground with light in their eyes swaying from side to side.
Because of their previous fight, Iro was already aware that Davey was capable of defending himself, but they had still believed that he stood no chance against King of the Dead Deian.
In reality, Deian averted his eyes first and feigned ignorance as he tried to retreat. Amid this bizarre standoff, Davey's crooked smile deepened. The smile made Iro’s teeth clatter again in fear, so they locked their fingers together to pray and ask, ‘My dear goddess. How can a Saint wear such a sinister smile…’
"Wow. It’s been bothering me a little, so I can’t believe I met you right here.” Davey strode toward Deian. "Since you’re here, I might not have to go to the Demon World after all."
Deian cleared his throat, trying to back away as furtively as ...
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