Although Cain would have liked to speak with his allies and comrades, perhaps even share a drink with those who had survived the carnage, this was not the time for sentiment. Every breath burned, every heartbeat throbbed with pain. Unlocking the seal around his Neo-Demon Core had taken everything from him.
He nodded briefly to a few of the ArchDeities with whom he shared a bond, then turned his gaze toward Zarazel.
"I'll be focusing on healing and cultivation inside my Divine Kingdom," Cain said calmly, though his voice carried the weight of finality. "Unless it's an emergency, I don't want to be disturbed. And even then, I can't promise I'll be able to help."
The True Depravita of Fear studied him in silence. His eyes, dark and fathomless, glimmered faintly with understanding. After a long pause, Zarazel inclined his head in acknowledgment. He asked no questions, didn't mention the Third Realm, or the battle with the Neo-Angels. His silence was not ignorance but wisdom.
