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... nted.
Zharokath's desperate attempt to escape, the way he clung to that pathetic shred of hope—it was all so predictable. These demons, for all their arrogance and cruelty, were always the same when their lives were on the line. They scrambled, they begged, they tried to run, thinking that somehow, they could slip away from the inevitable. And every time, it filled me with an intoxicating thrill.
I watched as his body began to phase out of existence, the artifact glowing with the ...
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