The room was filled with silence as the breathless demons—who anticipated Belial's death—were bewildered.
Lucifer missed his attack, stabbing his sword right through the wall, and next to the traitor's face.
Belial was shaken up.
His legs wobbled like flimsy twigs as he fell to his hands and knees, grasping his neck in disbelief.
He could only pant and stare at the ground, having felt the power of a Great King.
"Y-You spared me, why?"
Belial slowly lifted his head, staring at the repulsive expression plastered on Lucifer's face.
"You don't deserve death—not yet at least." Lucifer sheathed his sword, turning around, "It's too early for you to die, I'll let karma handle you from now on." The demon king walked out, leaving the conference room.
Belial could only sit there on his knees, rubbing his neck.
He was filled with adrenaline.