Pho stood from his throne, his three-meter frame towering even at a distance.
The frost around him intensified, the air itself seeming to crystallize as he moved.
"Kragoth is dead. The pits need a new overseer. Someone strong enough to command respect, brutal enough to maintain discipline, capable enough to handle the slaves without letting them die too quickly."
He descended the steps slowly, each step accompanied by the sound of ice forming beneath his feet.
"But before I give you that position, I need to know if you can back up that confidence. If that fearlessness is genuine or just bravado masking your weakness."
{Oh. Oh no. He wants to fight us. Right now. The demon wants to spar with us.}
Pho reached the bottom of the platform, standing perhaps twenty feet from Jack, his blank white eyes boring into the armored demon who'd dared to challenge him.
"So let's find out," Pho said, his voice carrying certainty that suggested this wasn't really a request.
