Of course, that wasn't all Ol'gaz was capable of.
What happened next unfolded so quickly that Florian didn't even have time to regret taunting the demon. By the time he realized the danger, it was already too late.
Ol'gaz slammed him to the ground, seized his collar, and hurled him skyward. His body hit the ceiling with a crack, splintering it, before crashing back down with a sickening thud.
The demon's foot came down hard on Florian's chest, pinning him like a broken doll.
Shards from the shattered ceiling and floor had carved a deep gash across his face. Pain screamed through every nerve—he couldn't tell which bones were broken, only that everything hurt. Blood was pouring from so many places that he couldn't tell where it started or ended.
He coughed, spitting out a thick, black liquid that splashed onto the fractured floor.
But Ol'gaz wasn't finished. Not even close. The demon was furious—and it intended to make sure Florian never dared to mock it again.
