Damian said nothing to the crying demons beneath him. He simply hovered silently in the skies while the kneeling creatures trembled below like sinners awaiting judgment.
Some were openly sobbing while others buried their faces against the dirt while their shoulders shook uncontrollably. The smell of fear saturated the battlefield.
Yet Damian did not find their reactions strange.
Honestly, it was no different from humans fearing death. They possessed the same desperation, helplessness and instinctive terror that surfaced when life stood inches away from ending.
His glowing violet eyes slowly drifted away from the demons and settled upon Corbin.
His brows narrowed slightly.
The priest had changed again.
The once vibrant purple hair Damian remembered was gone completely, replaced by snow white strands that danced lightly beneath the cold wind. Without the usual glasses covering his face, Damian could finally see the damage done to his eyes properly.
