Cries of a Hell Demon

Oscar lay sprawled on the ground, dark blood seeping from his mouth and nose. His hood had fallen off, revealing a human demon's pale, ghastly visage. His face was ghostly white, a chilling sight. 

Thanks to Klaus and his Dragon killing the summon demons, he had already lost four-sevenths of his soul.

Klaus hadn't expected the Dragon to manage to kill any of the Ascendants, but it had. His plan was for the dragon to hold the succubus and the Dark Elf back so he could deal with the other five.

But it managed to kill one. He was grateful for that small miracle. 

As a show of gratitude, Klaus gave the Dragon another task. The result? The Orc Shaman's charred body collapsed, breaking into crisp, blackened fragments. 

Nearby, the Dark Elf clutched her wounded right arm, her face contorted in frustration and pain. It had become nearly impossible for her to draw her bow, leaving her vulnerable. 

The demon-killing circle was gone.