{Skills Acquired So Far.}
{Demon Grip - [MAX]. Blood Rain - [MAX]. Demon Eyes - [MAX]. Death Shield - [MAX]. Torment Prison - [MAX]. Venom Phantom Strike - [MAX]. Flames of Death - [MAX]. Telepathic - [MAX]. ETC...}
A young man, his crimson-streaked black hair, which was a stark contrast to the deep red of his eyes, lay sprawled naked upon the silken sheets of his bed. His gaze, sharp and assessing, scanned the ethereal list of skills floating before his inner eye.
'Still no progress...' A sigh, laced with a profound and almost comical frustration, escaped his lips. 'With this many skills already maxed out, when in the abyss will I acquire anything new?'
Thought Draven Valthor, the last living incubus in the entirety of the underworld, and arguably the second most powerful being to currently draw breath in the demon realm. His unique existence had led him down a path of… intimate familiarity with a staggering portion of the female population.
An almost unbelievable statistic.
