Simon hadn't sensed anyone behind him.
Not a footstep. Not a shadow approaching. The man had spoken from close enough to reach out and touch him.
He moved before the last word faded.
Wind swept across the broken floor, trailing with crimson sparks. Simon landed several dozen paces away and turned, one foot drawn back and a hand raised before his chest as he stood in a defensive position.
A tall man stood where he had just been.
His silver hair was cut short, and a long black coat hung from narrow shoulders. His right eye was pale grey. In the left socket sat a tiny, bone-white face with two black eyes of its own.
Its little mouth was open.
Simon stared for a moment, then examined the power the man was no longer bothering to conceal.
A Supreme Demon King.
His stomach tightened.
