Elysir, a picture of arrogance, barely suppressed a grin. "And what is this duty, Father?" he asked, his voice a silken purr that belied the savage predator lurking beneath. Balthor, his eyes narrowed to slits, leaned forward, his gaze fixed on his son. "You are to kill a human. But this is no ordinary human, Elysir. Zyraroth, that treacherous angel, has sent him to this realm. He seeks to lure you into a trap, to break your resolve." His voice hardened. "Do not fall for his games.
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