A parasite, huh? The lowest rank of demon. How disgusting.
To think something like that pushed me this far… even if I'm not in peak condition.
Velra's lips curled in contempt, but her thoughts were far from calm.
There were many types of demons in the demon realm.
Each born from a different sin. A different hunger.
Some were born of wrath—towering beasts that roared with fire and shattered mountains beneath their fists. Brutes, yes, but terrifying in their raw power.
Others were born of lust, able to beguile even the wisest souls—beautiful, cunning, and venomous, like flowers blooming with poison.
Then there were the schemers, the shadowkind—demons of envy and deceit. They didn't need claws. Their words did the cutting.
But parasites?
They were the bottom feeders. Born not of a noble sin, but of desperation. Scavengers that couldn't survive on their own. Weak. Insignificant.
And yet…
This one stood before her now, untouched, unfazed, unflinching.
