"Are you really a baby?!"
Grugrim exclaimed and Malik snarled, flames flaring higher:
"Shut up!"
Grugrim tilted his head, studying him with the smug, knowing gaze of a man who had just hit a raw wound.
His statement seemed to have struck a nerve.
He scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.
His comment had been made to taunt…but it landed.
Could it be because it was true?
Malik was indeed acting like a baby.
Not just because he was angry.
But because of his hesitation.
The way he fought—like a spoiled child who thought he was untouchable.
Toying with his enemy. Avoiding risks. Refusing to commit unless he was sure he wouldn't get hurt.
That was because pain was new to him.
Grugrim's eyes narrowed.
This wasn't just some ancient, all-powerful demon.
No.
It made sense now.
An adult demon wouldn't have let Grugrim live this long.
Would've ended it without blinking.
Malik was a baby.
Grugrim's deduction was correct.
Malik was indeed a baby.
