Damon watched as the demon bit into the human's arm, chewing loudly, its jaws snapping with sickening delight.
"Ah yes, peeled! My favorite!"
Its voice was hoarse—strangely not unpleasant at all. And that disturbed Damon the most.
It wasn't uncommon for powerful demons to speak fluently, but this one was releasing an aura eerily similar to his own. Rank seven.
A Demon Prince?! His eyes narrowed. A Demon Prince acting as a mere Messenger?
This wasn't normal. The world of Zulmasharr had a strict hierarchy, but it was rarely enforced among the titled demons.
Normally, Demon Princes ruled their own territories, avoiding unnecessary conflicts with others of their rank.
Even though Demon Kings weren't necessarily afraid of Princes, but few were willing to work with one. An intelligent demon was always a threat.
Not to mention, there was an unspoken rule—titled demons weren't allowed to kill each other without cause.
That meant… This wasn't just any summoning.
