The Duke's Passion
Chapter 870 Sloth
870 Sloth
Now that Samacl thought about it, even though Tilly kept running away from him during their sparring session, he had never seen fear appear in her eyes. She would always have this sincere look which infuriated him more.
Her actions often didn't match her determined eyes. It was more infuriating than losing to her. Now, Samael understood the reason for that.
Tilly's definition of sparing was different. To her, a spar was not only a test of skills, but a safe place to express their emotions openly.
She never planned to win against Samael. All she wanted was for him to conquer himself, learn to control his emotions, and face his fears.
Samael fixed his gaze up in the air to where Tilly was floating. She was facing the demon fearlessly; she had no weapon whatsoever. However, Samael couldn't feel any sign of disadvantage.
Stay. Conserve your energy.
Her words flashed across his head once more. To be truthful, she could've moved him to a much safer place. This place was not safe. It was already on the brink of total collapse. If a battle broke out here, he could already imagine being crushed by it.
"Fine, then," Samael huffed, laying flat on his back as if he was simply in the middle of a meadow. "I swear, Tilly. I can't move an inch. If I get struck by something..."
His voice trailed off as his eyes went wide, almost coming out of their sockets. Up above him was a piece of concrete falling straight to him.
"Oy, oy..." Samacl glanced in Tilly's direction, only to see her focus on the demon. "Oy, Tilly...!" Panic swelled in his chest upon realizing Tilly might not save him this time. He gazed at the boulder, clenching his teeth as he rolled over to his side. Thanks to a little time of rest, Samael had enough strength to crawl. But alas, crawling at this speed would not save him.
"Shit!" Samael looked back at the boulder, gasping.
The shadow of the concrete shaded over his entire body. Holding his breath, Samael clenched his teeth. Ile wouldn't die by getting crushed by this for sure that was what he thought and believed.
"I told him to stay, though," whispered Tilly, keeping her gaze on the demon. She could still hear Samacl complaining on and on, but she didn't bother herself like usual.
"Hehe." The demon sneered. "What a noisy child."
"Ilis noisiness only meant he is alright. I'm glad."
"Sloth. The most dangerous of all. It is a surprise you went out of your way to save such a pathetic lad," the demon smirked. "I will not deny your sudden interference took me by surprise, but alas, that is the only time you can stop me."
The demon's severed arm slowly grew back, hissing in satisfaction the moment it could feel its hand. It flexed his newly grown back fingers, grinning from car to car.
Meanwhile, Tilly remained calm. It was true that just the mere sight of the demon could scare anyone. However, this was not the first time she had seen one.
"You know for a fact you cannot defeat me in a head-to-head battle," remarked the demon, seething in anger at her lack of reaction. "How are you certain that Pride can, when you, an original, can't?"
"You said it yourself." Iler voice was quiet. "Ile is Pride
For some reason, her answer ripped off the wicked grin on the demon's face.
"You might have an advantage in terms of strength, experience, and knowledge of this blood. However, you have taken this form because no matter what you do, you will never be chosen," Tilly continued, hitting all sensitive topics for this old uncle turned into a demon. "How come you, a lowly demon, think you can rule the world, and kill all the seeds when you can't even keep your form?"
The demon froze, looking at the sickly woman spewing all the things that could warrant her death.
Tiller clowly raised her hand to the side. Blood was drinning from each of her fingertins erec glowing in bright red. Her forehead revealed bumps, which slowly grew until the bumps looked like little horns.
"It is silly for you to think like that, when even in that form, you do not have a single horn" the corner of her lips curled up into a smirk, sporting a look no one thought she was capable of wearing.
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