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                                        Chapter 145: Looking At The Crimson Grimoire
                                
                                                                                        
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                                        Chapter 147: Escape
                                
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... ion. It wasn’t a quake.
It was pure rage.
Malakov slammed his fist into the arm of his obsidian chair, and the reinforced alloy fractured down the middle. The veins on his hand bulged, glowing faintly violet—his synthetic blood reacting to emotional overload.
The monitors in front of him flickered.
Each one showed a different angle of the failed ambush—the ghouls shredded, the Crimson Grimoire ripped from Calen’s corpse, Lucifer walking through the smoke untouched ...
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