Demon glanced at the Demoness throwing herself on him. Wondering, what kind of face she'll make if she were to know who he actually was.
He smiled.
Arya, despite her Ascension rank, despite being an Inferior Greater Demon was still a beautiful woman.
Well, according to Mortal standards, her beauty could said to be above above-average. She was tall, her adult figure was curvaceous, her assets were impeccable, her face was flawless, sublime.
Her crimson eyes fluttered when gazing at him. Her silken fiery obsidian strings falling gracefully over her tender frame, covering her left eye—Like an eyepatch.
Her lips—Like a faint whisper of blood, swirled—pouting.
"Hm. It seems you did not hear that kid properly, Arya. He only said about wanting you four, of which he already got one, remaining you three! In other words, you tell me, why should I help you?
Not as if that kid demanded my maid here?" Demon voiced purposefully.
