"Aristella, I have to put my people first."
Asmodeus spoke loud enough for the entire room to hear while keeping his eyes locked on the delicate goddess who knelt before him. His chest grew heavy as her brows furrowed. Despite her polite intentions, he chose to wait and properly prepare.
"Emperor of Demons, do you truly not understand the danger—"
He slammed his arm against the wooden arm, interrupting the goddess.
Shocked, her skin switched from fair to dark.
"Aristella, do not take me for a fool. I will not become a pawn for the creator, let alone a petty plot crafted by you lesser gods who seek to use me and my people to endure the brunt of the enemy."
His eyes trailed across the room, caught on his dear friend Alan, a man who once fought for his people to the limit of his sanity. Yet now, barely able to shuffle to the front row without help, there were also the countless dead or wounded unable to come.
