Night in the Forest of Twin Disasters did not fall gently.
The last ribbons of dusk vanished behind the ancient canopy, and shadows thickened until the world became layers of black upon black.
The clearing Damien had observed earlier now glowed faintly with embers from crude demon torches — sickly green flames licking at the air without warmth.
He crouched high in the branches of a massive tree at the edge of their territory.
Below, the patrol rotated.
Just as he had memorized.
Five lesser demons. Two intelligent. One stationed near the central pit. The other pacing slowly along the outer rim of the camp, occasionally glancing toward the forest like a commander ensuring discipline.
Damien's breathing was steady.
No rush. No excitement. Just calculation.
Beside him, Luton clung flat against the bark, its body compressed and nearly invisible in the dark.
Damien's gaze tracked the pacing demon.
That was the one.
Isolate. Silence. Extract.
