"Oh, who would have thought that we would meet the loser again?" Devil remarked aloud in Michael's ear rather than speaking telepathically.
"The question is, would he be a sore loser, incapable of accepting his own defeat and demanding a rematch, or does he have more than two working brain cells?"
Evidently, Devil was eager for a fight.
While Michael had experienced the benefits of wielding greater power upon their fusion, Devil had yet to truly rejoice in the essence of being a Supreme rank.
Since evolving, all Devil had done was sit on Michael's shoulder like a mascot, which irritated him quite a bit.
In his eyes the newcomer Lord was the perfect outlet to vent his frustration on. He wasn't willing to miss the chance.
Supreme Lord Noctis effortlessly picked up on Devil's whisper but didn't display any reaction, indifferent to the words.
Ignoring the gaze Devil gave him, Noctis focused on Michael, a smile still playing on his lips.
