Why Does Diablo Serve Rimuru Novels & Stories

"Then what kind of role is Damian playing? I heard he went back to the islands?" "Damian?" Soren repeated, rubbing his chin. "Well, he's power-hungry," he said with a shrug. "He wants to keep the islands that he took when Romero went to prison. Damian is not a stupid man though. He knew he wouldn't be able to fight against either Kal or James; therefore, if it was up to him, this war would go on as long as possible."

“I do not raise the dead foe, I am able to summon that type of enemy, just one, and if killed or sent away, when I summon it again, their skin colour, gender and skill types will be different to the previous. They are also stuck at the skill level of that defeated foe as well, that’s why there aren’t many of our kind, we always try and go get better and stronger summons, which leads to death at a much earlier age than should be.” “How many can you have at once?” Venya asked. Besides Rex, she seemed to be the only other interested person. Everyone else had begun to eat, Dilo quite loudly at that as she pushed large ham chunks into her mouth, and was unbelievably able to fit bread into the sam

Dark amusement colors his voice. This is torture. We're under siege. “How are we sure, Diablo, that Timothy is willing to sign and you aren't tricking us?” One of the men asks. His voice betrays the fear inside him. “You don't get to be sure. It's my word against yours. I call the shots.” Diablo says cruelly. Playing us like pawns in whatever sick game he's conjured. We have no choice but to take his word for it. We have no choice but to obey.

Then, he asked in disbelief with a trembling voice, “You… You actually crippled me?” “I told you that since you don’t want to retreat, you gave me no choice but to take action. You need to bear the final consequences yourself,” David replied expressionlessly. “You asshole! Why didn’t you just kill me? Why did you want to spare my life? Do you know that crippling me is more cruel than killing me?” Diablo roared. “I didn’t kill you because I want you to have a chance to change your ways. But if you really want to die, the people from the Divine Snow Mountain should be able to help you realize your wish.”

“Diablo is my brother just as much as he wore his second hand. At least he's my brother by blood now. My brother by choice. The two of us grew up being siblings. You were chosen part. The two of us chose to stand against him, and that is why the two of us are going to face him together.” “You are being delusional. I'm not going to allow you to do something like that. He is not going to settle down and if you think that safe grounds are going to keep you safe then you are very wrong. He has men, he has women who are more than willing to give their lives for him. They would just end up killing you by command or an order, lose their lives. Life goes on and they are accounted as heroes. Their fa

Everything except the one scenario that he revealed in the words tumbling out of his mouth. “What the fuck are you talking about, Diablo? I don’t have a sister!” A/N: Yes yes yes. Everyone suspicious of Remy, you were right. **Runs to hide**

“I killed her too.” There was silence. A silence so deep, I could hear the blood pounding in my ears. “But why?” I asked, my voice low. “Why would you do all this?” Damian looked at the sky above us, as if searching for answers. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “Maybe I was born cursed. Maybe I was born broken. I only know that everything I touch turns to ashes. And now…” He looked down at his hands. “…now I want to stop. I want to change.”

The devious Goblin waited until all of the greatest witch warriors had left on their duty to save the human before attacking their undefended hamlet, and then the beast struck. Damian did not have the privilege of fighting them in the manner of a man or more, nor did he have the faith without the help of Tommy's wolf, and Damian was well aware of Tommy's motivation: Diana, his best friend and right now they only change to survive was to run away.

“This is starting to sound less like a vacation and more like prison.” “Only for a week,” he says calmly. “I won’t let you get hurt.” “You still haven’t told me why I’m in danger.” “I can’t.” “That’s not true. You don’t want to.” The room is quiet. “No one is listening, Diablo. Why not tell me?” His gaze sweeps the room before his voice drops. “I’m doing a job for an old acquaintance.” “What kind of job?” “I need to retrieve something the Rossi Cartel is trying to sell.”

"Don Moretta," Diablo greets him. "Why am I here?" "We both know why you are in my dungeon; let's not play games. You won't fare well, my dear friend." Diablo swallows loudly, a sign of guilt and trepidation rolling through him. "Then ask me the question you need answers to... but don't be surprised if you have to drag them out of me. I'm not loyal to you, Moretta. My leader is Rossi."