CHAPTER 80.2

“Your Grace, please stop.” The hollowed voice of the goblin standing several arms length away from the hunched form of the once proud demon lord resonated inside the dimly lighted room. The zaps of lightning bolts flashing and peeking through the tightly closed curtains of the lavish room could not penetrate the darkened room for all the shadows of the three realms were hissing and whispering in every crevice of the duke’s self-imposed hole – a hideout from all the problems he was enduring as if he was back to the time when he lost his wife and when he had to give up his daughter.

Sitting in front the green flames of the dying firewood in the cackling fireplace, the gleam from the half emptied whisky glass flashed like a mockery to the frowning goblin. “Stop what, Gukasho?” He barely glanced at his aide as he continued his words filled with anguish and self-hate. “Stop breathing? I’ll be damn if I can only do that right this mom