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... f the battlefield, heart still dripping from his hand, blood smeared across his chest. His horns curved back like a crown of death, his eyes glowing a deeper red than fire itself.

He wasn't Daemon anymore.

He was Seraphiel—Demon King.

And he was hunting.

The nearest mage tried to run. He didn't make it five steps before Seraphiel appeared behind him in a flicker of shadow and tore his spine out through his back.

Another screamed and cast a barrier—Seraphie ...

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