“I could fight you, some slashes and bites and you would be a skinned man, but I will not. You know that each rogue is known by a name?” he asked. I didn’t answer, trying to find a way to my knife. My guns were at the floor next to me, but I had a feeling they would be useless against him.
“There is a fifth form of matter, if you didn’t know. Solid, liquid, gas, plasma, and then the fifth. I am sure you would know all about it. It is called Demon Flame, a black flame, made of the souls that the creator has killed. I am a creator and the way I make it is simple. They call me ‘The Dragon’.” He inhaled quickly through his nose and forced it out of his mouth, but it was not air, it was a black explosion. It didn’t behave like fire, it had a mind of its own. It stretched out trying to find its target, me. It was like folds of black smoke, and cold. I could hear screams of all the trapped people’s souls who made this fire live.
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