Erhat’s life was hanging by a thread, and the thread’s name was sheer curiosity.

The demon knew his life in this shell was over. He wasn’t certain how many of his organs were destroyed or how many bones were broken, but he could feel that there’s a whole lot of wrong in him and that he probably had a foot in a grave and another on a block of ice. But seeing the world around him explode in belligerent mayhem was simply too precious to abandon at this point.

The plan they had put in motion seemed to be unfolding perfectly. The inky barrier persisting meant that nobody traced its origin to the sewers, and the amount of houses being swallowed by erupting flames signified that most of their mages managed to secure a good detonation spot. But more importantly than that, those that didn’t opt to tuck tail and run like beheaded chicken seemed to be caught in a struggle that was bound to end up with more than just a couple of bloodied noses. As intended, Letho was in the center of it, but the appearance of someone who had to be a very old friend of his was a fortuitous addition. This madman seemed almost as powerful as Letho and was more than willing to join Letho’s side in the chaos of combat. Erhat didn’t know why and didn’t care. The man took down the false priest and that feat alone was enough to put him on Erhat’s good side.

Propping himself up on his elbows and getting in as comfortable position as possible while having half of his torso crushed by a pile of rock, Erhat was preparing to witness another violent exchange when another figure passed through the barrier next to him. The flame in Erhat’s eyes, moments ago feeble and weakened by his dying body, burst with renewed vigor as the figure fully emerged from the blackness.

“YOU!”