Meanwhile, still floating peacefully, watching the struggle of the young Trickster was the Demon King.
The one who had lived countless lives.
The one who had suffered countless lives.
The one fated to suffer countless more.
And the one who wanted it all to end.
Ashavar's lips curved into a faint smile as he gazed thousands of kilometers below, his sight piercing through clouds and chaos as if the scene unfolded right before him.
He saw the cloak glow.
He saw the boy's desperate flight.
But he didn't care about any of that.
He didn't care how the boy had come to possess
one of the rarest artifacts in all existence.
You even have his cloak, huh?
The thought drifted through his mind.
Well… you are his successor, after all.
The boy was someone the Demon King truly found amusing, enough to earn a place within the top hundred of his endless list.
It would be a lie to say he had never seen anyone like this before.
