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... ed. I am curious about Asmodeus intentions.
Seething with hate, Ritcher reached for his waist, ready to unsheath his sword. His silver eyes glowed, releasing a menacing aura that had my brow arched. "I will cut you down!"
"Richter," Mother softly mourned, placing her hands over his shoulder; a weak whimper escaped her throat, and tears crept over her cheeks as she shook her head, "Please don't. At least, try—"
"Not even for you, mother! Never! He crossed a line!" Said Ric ...
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