Damian slowly pushed himself upright, using his greatsword for support as the pain coursing through his body gradually settled into something manageable.
Blood continued dripping from beneath his helmet, but his glowing eyes never left Duke Dantalion. The ancient demon had already demonstrated a terrifying combination of strength, experience and versatility. If Damian could somehow acquire that inheritance, he would have little reason to waste time collecting the individual inheritances of ordinary demons.
Dantalion's ability to embody the powers of countless demonic races was practically everything Damian could ever need. Yet before he continued fighting, there was something about the Duke that bothered him.
"Let me ask you this..." Damian said calmly. "Are you truly the head of the Order of Demons?"
