Following Alasil's mutter, paired with his eyes subtly widening, the masked figure slowly stretched his arm out from beneath the veil of his cloak.
Grasped in his hand was a sword of pure ice.
"You... Just what..."
Stuttering his words, the Demon naturally frowned at the act of clear aggression.
Even though he wasn't sure exactly what happened to his dragon just now, even though the person in front of him must have been a fellow Demon, even though he should have been the last of them to survive the ancient 'cleansing'...!
There was something awfully wrong.
"Why-- Why do you have that divinity?!"
"..."
The unknown figure said nothing, his only sign of life being the unblinking crimson orbs on either side of that sinister black mask's face, and the energised magic energy coursing through his veins.
That itself was surely a sign of familiarity, and yet, it had to have been a mistake.
"Answer me!"
Crackle~!
