Chapter 1127 – Poor Etiquette
Kaelmor laughed.
Soft at first. A polite little sound, like she had complimented his coat rather than promised to drag a scream out of his lungs. It slipped through the ruined chamber with terrible cheer, brushing over the dead guards, the shattered siphon crystals, the cracked coffin, and the ancient demoness standing barefoot in the center of all that damage like a nightmare who had woken up annoyed by interior design.
"My, my," Kaelmor said, cane tapping once against the floor. "Still dramatic after all these years."
The demoness tilted her head. "Still alive after all these years. How irritating."
"Oh, I try."
He moved first.
Kaelmor stepped forward as if beginning a dance.
The shadows behind him exploded.
