The moment Asura heard the dark, lonely voice with a low pitch, a surge of recognition washed over him, instantly connecting him to his memories.
Before she spoke against them, he wrestled his hands-free of the disgusting, slimy sensation that wrapped around his hands.
The place Azoth lived didn't look beautiful even in the past. However, now, the entire realm looked bare; no demons or devils were supporting the monarch, and the entire place was being flooded with that disgusting black sludge.
"I am the true inheritor. Why do you sit on my throne, elf." Asura growled, resisting the heavy aura that oozed throughout the entire realm.
"You have no place here, begone filth!" she hissed, her words dripping with venom.
Asura didn't have some grand plan to deal with Philis as he wished.
Instead, he only had the emotions, memories, and feelings that Azoth left behind before being devoured.
