"Gentlemen." Nanfeng pushed the greatshield off himself and rose leisurely to his feet. "Someone here has something to say."
Demogorgon froze. After being the Demon Prince for so many years, this was the first time he felt that mortals were so damn astonishing. Was this person talking to him?
Graz'zt, who had dealt with the Undead a little before, handled it better.
Though he was hardly unangered, he understood even more clearly that getting angry was completely useless.
The Undead would only think they had something wrong with their heads and couldn't understand human speech... The fact that he had gained such insight showed just how much effort Graz'zt had put in back on Toril.
After the Demon Gate under his control had completely collapsed, Graz'zt's fury was easy to imagine.
Though the true culprit was that bitch Waukeen... knowing full well that Waukeen was a bottomless pit, Graz'zt would never go looking for trouble with the Goddess of Wealth.
After all, Waukeen never needed a reason to cause him trouble. Him giving her a wide berth was nothing unusual.
As for whether that would make people think there was something wrong with Waukeen... what did that have to do with him?
Whether Toril had any intelligent people would not affect Waukeen's inevitable fate of death.
But Graz'zt's losses had to be compensated by someone, didn't they?
Who could be more suitable than the Undead, who had fought the demon army for so long and even lured Waukeen over?
Of course, in Graz'zt's mind—at least back when his brain had apparently fried itself—the numerous and exceptionally greedy Undead had been quite useful.
Then Graz'zt, secretly directing things from beyond the sealed world of Toril, experienced endless humiliation.
Not because every attempt to strike at the Undead had failed. Demons did