|
|
|
|
 |
 | |  |
| I ran up to the remaining demons, armed only with the ancient teachings of one-thousand years ago. | |
 | |  |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| I fired blasts from my hands with ease. I was a killer. I was an artist of death. I drew blood out of all of the minions of the devil, and the bloodlust still lingered within me. | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| I ran ahead, fearing the lingering souls of the demons. | |
| | |
|
|
|
