The obsidian hall was already stifling. The torches burned with increasingly agitated blue flames, reflecting the tension of those present. Amon drummed his fingers against the table, each tap resounding like thunder, while Paimon had already lost her patience and paced back and forth.
"Hours," Amon growled, his teeth clenched. "Hours, and still nothing."
"That's typical of him," Phenex muttered, refilling his wine glass with lazy disdain. "Unfortunately, I can't just kill him... I wish I could..."
"You want to be killed?" Stella slammed her palm against the table. "Threaten my husband again and I'll turn your immortality into nothing but ash."
"Then he'll come back again." Astaroth smiled slightly, resting his chin on his hand. "Stop throwing that little whirlwind of sweets; you're not even strong enough to kill someone immortal."
Sapphire huffed, crossing her arms.
