The Deadlands was a world that hovered between the borders of Life and Death.
Those who appeared in this world had their own circumstances and goals, but there was one thing that all of them had in common.
They all wanted to live.
The same could be said for the Great Earl of Hell, who had escaped the pursuit of the other Gods who had intended to kill him.
Currently, Morax was looking at the Half-Elf who had taken part in the destruction of his plan to regain his Godlike Powers, and to take revenge on those that had made his life miserable.
"If only you hadn't appeared here," Morax said as he gritted his teeth.
He didn't know how many times he had said this out loud and in thoughts.
His hate for William had now surpassed his hatred to the Gods that had forced him to hide in this God-forsaken-place. If looks could kill, the Half-Elf would have died many times over.
"Now, it's just you and me," William said. "Let's rumble."
