Amos looked at the ruin Rock's Nest had become. He snorted. Wrath's pets were trying to smoke him out. Amos had run away. He was free now.
The slave rune had hurt like hell. But Amos didn't care if he had to burn it away with mana, not even when he felt as his mana core began to shrink.
The redhead knew that he could run. Hide somewhere. It was the smart thing to do. Wrath had never lost a duel.
But that monster had wanted him to become stronger the entire time. Had humiliated him, trampled on all of his achievements.
Amos would gladly die. Kill Wrath with his bare hands if he needed to. But he wasn't as strong as the Archdemon.
No, he needed allies. He needed to protect Valentius before the boy became Wrath's new target. To protect him from the dread that was Wrath's bed.
The Nightshade was his only hope.
The holes in that plan showed themselves when Amos saw Albert and Valentius tending to a wounded orc.
Albert…
Marek…
