The smoke that floated above the clearing had already burned halfway.
An old hand grasped it, bringing it to his lips for a deep inhale.
"As for a Lich like you, I've lived a long time, but this is the first I've seen."
The dead Demon Hunter spoke up to this point, looking toward Durin.
His spiritual body was shattering, an iron law of dueling—the loser's soul would become nourishment for the victor's soul.
"You're not exactly a proper Demon Hunter either."
Durin said, lighting a second cigarette for the old man.
"Yes, I feared death and ultimately walked the path of evil. I killed my lover, my friends, my mentor, and I went mad. The Kriegern family gave me a chance to start over. They didn't ask me, but I wanted to do something for this land."
Durin nodded.
"So, you became my enemy."
