"Nameless? That's impossible…" Marvas almost sprang from his seat.
"I'm well aware of what's happening on the human world," he went on. "I've already heard a look-alike has appeared there .. but there's a world of difference between Nameless and that greenhorn."
He was speaking of Frey, of course.
"Nameless was one of a kind .. a strange, affectless creature who devoted his entire existence to knowledge and training, reaching tiers of power no one but he and the King ever touched. His sword was a reaper's scythe, and fighting him was pure hell—so much so that even the High Seats fled his path."
Glimmers of a distant past flickered through Marvas's mind. He was one of the oldest demons; he had seen much—and Nameless's rise was one of those things.
"Against an enemy like that… all I have is fear .. and respect. Are you telling me he's returned?"
Izalith nodded. "He has. I can confirm it."
"Truly…?"
