"I can't give up.
I haven't claimed the throne yet, I haven't ruled Terra, and I haven't killed Ethan. I can't just give up."
Damien shook his head, trying to calm himself.
No matter what, he had to fight for a chance. The idea of dying so easily made him feel a thousand times more unwilling.
But how could he escape this predicament?
Damien frowned, deep in thought, trying to figure out a way to break free.
Then, suddenly, an image appeared in his mind.
"That's right! The Death God, Lord Khas'tan, surely he can save me!"
With that thought, Damien lowered his head and began chanting a prayer in haste:
"Great Ancient Death God—Khas'tan,
I am your loyal servant, an angel you left in this world.
I beg for your attention, I beg for your blessings!"
...
"Whoosh!"
At that moment, another wave of sword rain appeared, unhesitatingly flying toward Damien.
"Clink clink clink!"
