"Yo, old man… did you fight all seven of those bastards by yourself?"
"Yes, I did," he muttered, voice low—like the memory was heavier than he let on.
"I wish the other six came up," Kael said, laughing under his breath. "Would've killed them all at once."
The Demon King leaned forward, raising a brow. "Yeah? Then why'd you toy with him at the beginning?"
He shrugged. "Well… they were prideful. He thought he was special."
He paused, then looked off—like replaying the moment in his head.
"I made sure he felt small. Helpless." He said it casually, without care. Like it wasn't even worth getting worked up about.
"How did you even lose to those losers?" he asked.
The Demon King went quiet for a second. His eyes darkened.
"They were strong, with different types of magic. But I was too careless," he muttered. "That's what got me. Out of nowhere, power exploded out of them."
He placed a hand over his chest. "Next thing I knew, they plunged their sword into my heart."
