Azmodeus stopped strangling the fat bastard for a brief moment. Taking this as a good sign, the Duke cleared his throat and began to speak. "You made a good choice—" but before he could commence a whole drawn-out young master dialogue session, Azmodeus interrupted him with the sharp end of his blade, saying:
"I wish I cared whether or not you could do anything for me… but I just don't."
"N-No, pleazz—"
SHING!
SPURT!
As Azmodeus let go of the baffling idiot, a sword was momentarily unsheathed, and a flash of light careened around the Duke. His head was cut clean off as his wide eyes were still as wide as ever. More than any other emotion, disbelief was the one most prominent on his face. Even in the afterlife, he couldn't understand why his name and status held no sway in the face of the demon-masked man.
