Chapter 621: Sacrifice
"I came to help," I said.
The pressure of the two raging eighth-level souls was overwhelming, but I forced a small smile. Luke’s eyes brightened, then quickly narrowed, and his focus returned to the inquisitor. He shifted closer to me, grip tightening on his sword.
"I wish you hadn’t," he muttered, tail starting to twitch. "This man is dangerous."
"Hmph," Lord Evlon shook his head, a frown deepening his wrinkles. "So, the city has fallen? It’s truly a pity, but it allows me to end things now. You should have run when you had the chance, little filthbloods."
Luke stepped forward, raising his sword. "I won’t let you touch her."
The inquisitor raised an eyebrow, casting a ponderous gaze between us. "Curious. It was my understanding that the Apostle of the Descent was a cold-blooded killer."
"I don’t care what you heard. You die today."
Lord Evlon raised his staff, and a dozen magic circles whirled around him. Judging by the absurd amounts of mana within, he’d been gathering it for some time. "I’ve killed a dozen fiends more powerful than you. Even if that damned mutt took more effort than I was anticipating, I’m more than capable of putting down someone like you."
His aura intensified, and my hands gripped Fable tighter. Luke scoffed and strode forward, his curses reaching out to drain the gathering mana.