Nyarlom who sensed that his shadow wolves have died was smiling a scary wicked smile. He looked at the surrounding area where Amon suddenly disappeared and that terrifying-looking smile grew even wider.
"I underestimated this era's so called demons they aren't the pushovers I thought they were." Nyarlom chuckled as he looked at his bleeding hand and licked it. Even though he was superior to Amon in every possible way, the little demon was able to injure him and escape.
'Well, it doesn't matter if they're able to escape now... Hmm... I guess it was pretty foolish of them, it would've been better to die by my hands than to see what comes next. They should've accepted my gift of an easier death. Well, it doesn't matter anymore a few days from now the beginning of the show will start, and if they stay in this city they'll have front row seats." Nyarlom licked his lips as he was about to leave the Grand Mage's tower.
