Ittorath watched without interest. His gaze dropped to the phoenix sigil burned into his wrist.
That mark was the only reason this fragile body had not torn itself apart. The more power he drew, the more the flesh split and failed, and the phoenix symbol healed it just as quickly.
He looked up at Damon and scoffed.
"I did not kill you before because my god wants you alive. Do not test me, insect."
Damon sneered at the little girl's face.
"From someone your size, is that supposed to be threatening?"
His eyes shifted past Ittorath and settled on the object behind him. A dragon devouring its own tail. He did not need time to think. He could feel the pressure rolling off it.
The Ouroboros Coil.
Ashcroft's voice slid into his mind.
"Get ready. I think I know what he is trying to do." A brief pause. His tone turned somber. "You have a chance if you cut away your sanity and use the form you used when you fought me."
Damon said nothing.
