An Adversary

"Arad? Is that you?" Sara stepped forward, staring at the massive dragon in front of her.

"I am," Arad replied, his voice crackling inside his throat. He slowly moved his head closer to her, "Holy magic? No, it's unholy, cursed." He glared at her.

Sara gulped, "I'm a priestess of Asmodeus, the devil goddess of the hells. I can use both holy spells and curses granted to me by her."

"Your curse magic seems too simple. You don't have any powerful spells?" A faint purple light gleamed deep inside Arad's eyes, the witch inside him inspecting Sara's magic.

"I'm not a fighter, and worshipping the lady of the hells can cause some problems." She looked away, "I might have slacked a bit lately,"

Thud! Abel walked forward, "You can't worship Asmodeus without being blamed for every plage and lost soul in this world," He stared at Arad, "It's best for her to use as little of the hells' lady's gifts as possible,"