Outside in the sky, four more abominations dropped like stones, their bodies burning as they fell. The demons on the streets went wild with cheers, shouting until their voices cracked. Every death pushed their excitement higher.
Dorian and the other grandmasters fought with stunned expressions. They had expected a bloody, hopeless struggle, not a one-sided massacre. Watching Primus, Steve, and North carve through the enemy shook them to their core.
That shock pushed the Phantom to finally move.
Its body blurred, vanishing from its spot. When it appeared again, it stood right in front of Dorian, greatsword resting lazily on its shoulder.
My eyes narrowed. My full attention locked onto the fight.
I had made a promise to Primus: no one from his family would die as long as I stood here.
The Phantom's knee shot forward, fast enough to tear a hole through the air. It was aimed directly at Dorian's chest, an attack meant to crush his ribs in a single blow.
