Cain's eyes turned cold as he saw the way the three Inferno Daemons looked at him, like hyenas circling wounded prey, ready to go for the kill.
"Ahhh, Divine Transcendent Masters are truly something," he said aloud, his voice calm despite the flicker of pain that shot through his body. "Relying only on my brute power is not enough, and I have yet to master Astral Abilities powerful enough to make a difference at this level of battlefield."
His words carried through the void, clear and deliberate. The trio of Inferno Daemons heard them easily. Though they sounded like a resigned admission, the young man's tone had no trace of anxiety or fear. It was a statement of fact, not surrender. The seeming serenity of his voice, despite his severe wounds, unsettled them. Should he not be afraid? He was wounded, after all. How could he maintain this calm?
