His attire remained that of an old-school traditional noble gentleman. From hat to boots, from waistcoat to cane, every detail was impeccable.
The only difference was that Sanders's complexion was paler than usual.
Was he injured? Angel wondered inwardly.
Still, no matter what, seeing Sanders indeed standing atop the floating ice let the boulder hanging over his heart settle a little.
"Whom do you hate? The stars and moon after a passionate kiss, the black night after parting, or the night watchman who betrayed you?"
An eerie tone, carried by absurd music, spread through the surroundings.
Earlier, Angel had been wholly focused on searching for Sanders and had paid no attention to the stage. Now, drawn by that bizarre melody, his gaze fell upon the puppet theater stage.
His expression instantly froze.
Strange white phantom puppets, half-hidden threads, an illusory stage, and the eye-searing performance upon it.
Everything was so bizarre, even absurd.
Angel continued examining it. When he clearly saw the performers onstage, he somewhat understood what Fafnir had meant earlier by "three have already fallen."
On the stage, three great demons were madly brawling with one another. Two of them were already covered in wounds. The other, a curled-horned demon shining all over with golden light—whom Canaan had called Edesinos—had not suffered many injuries yet, but as it chased and grappled with the others, its wounds were increasing at a rate visible to the naked eye.
Angel had previously guessed that the battle atop the floating ice would be fierce.
Back when Hai had not yet become a great demon, she had already nearly capsized Sinafa. Let alone now, when all those besieging the floating ice were great demons.
Angel had even thought that perhaps there would be no need for a Void Tremor. Those few great demons