Time refused to move forward.
Frey and his companions could barely breathe as they found themselves standing before him.
The overwhelming pressure that crushed their bodies made it impossible to think—let alone act.
All they could do in that moment was freeze, awaiting his next move… like lambs patiently waiting for the blade.
Snow had lost all awareness, not even realizing he had knocked Frey over—Frey, who could no longer stand after his legs had been blown apart.
Now lying on the ground, Frey stared up at the demon before him.
But this wasn't just a demon.
It was death itself, standing at their doorstep.
Asmodeus didn't speak ... not even a single word. Whether he was capable of speech at all was uncertain. All that escaped the skeletal maw was a constant hiss, a sound that deepened their terror with every passing second.
Frey had once stood before the Demon King himself .. Agaroth.
