Anti-climactic.
That was the only word Damon could use to describe this.
He had come prepared for fire and blood. He had even gone out of his way to make the situation more difficult for himself.
And yet the entire battle was won without a single blow being traded.
All because they believed he was the reincarnation of some damned demon lord.
He walked back toward his tower in a daze, steps slow and heavy, eyes unfocused as he passed rows of demon kin still kneeling with their heads bowed. None of them dared to look up as he went by.
Of course, Damon did not forget to make them sign oath contracts to keep his identity secret.
But he knew that was only temporary.
Right now, he was certain of one thing.
He was about to be neck-deep in demon politics.
When he reached the top of the tower, Renata was already there waiting for him, staring with wide, unblinking eyes.
"Of all the horrible ways this could have ended, I did not imagine this," she said.
