[A sick little laugh bubbles up in his throat.] ...Is that so?

[He was prepared for pushback and channels his fight into generating a portal for himself, his exit plan, willing to bounce around from one location to another ad nauseum to make a point. All the more incentive to invest more time and ambition into devil forging until he gained the means of pushing even further out, far enough to put Hector out of his mind and attempt to fill that gaping void he'd leave behind with something else.]

I escaped one curse already; I have ill need of another. [He declares, unsmiling. The sigil's steady, pulsing glow accentuates his sloping nose, the unyielding sharpness of his jaw.] Perhaps we shall meet again in ten years' time, assuming you haven't managed to drown yourself in the ocean.