"Arrogant!"
Watching the Little Demon strutting about before him, the rage and madness burning within Mel finally overwhelmed his fear and trembling.
It was only a makeshift weapon that he had broken, yet this creature acted as if it had already won!
Even though he had been caught off guard and killed, he did not believe that he, a chosen one of the gods, would lose to a mere Little Demon.
Such dungeon creatures were only troublesome for the jobless members of the adventurer guild!
"I, however—am chosen by the truth!"
Roaring, Mel burned the last vestige of Chaos-given Divine Power. His delusional rant made his body continue to swell, each terrifying tentacle under him sprouting arms.
The hundreds of arms stretching outward resembled hellish spider lilies, grasping everything that could be used as a weapon in their palms—whether rust-stained swords or broken bows and pitchforks.
