The instant Morlock spread his wings, the air in the room began to tremble as though it had caught fire.
A whiplike tail covered in hard, bony segments emerged from beneath his formal coat and lashed about, its tip leaving hazy scorch marks as it sliced through the air.
The pungent smell of sulfur swiftly filled the room, making their throats tighten.
He had not revealed his full true form, but even this partial release of his inner nature had begun to disrupt the laws governing the surrounding space.
Meanwhile, in Renato's vision, countless pale, wailing souls clung to Morlock's claws and formal attire. Their translucent faces flickered in and out of the fabric's folds, mouths opening in despair yet unable to form a complete syllable. Their silent agony alone told of the wretched fate awaiting those who defied a devil's will.
Renato instinctively raised the Black Sword, aiming its tip at the high-ranking devil. But the cacophony of wails vanished as quickly as it had come, gone in an instant.
Morlock lowered his open palm. The room's suddenly elevated temperature began to fall slowly, and the sulfur in the air gradually gave way to the scent of pinewood from the fireplace.
"Relax, my friend. I've come to help. I mean you no harm."
Klauthsura clearly thought otherwise. After he had blocked her telepathic messages twice in succession, the female dragonborn decisively abandoned mental communication. She pressed her lips to Renato's ear and warned him in a rapid whisper:
"Renato, he's a pit fiend, a legendary devil! According to the Library's records, pit fiends are the highest-ranking devils below the archdevils. Even with physical strength alone, their claws and venomous fangs can tear apart an adult red dragon, a creature renowned for its physical resilience."
"What's more, he has an