The moment he saw Iver, the leader froze for a moment.
He had considered the possibility that they had been ambushed... Yet he never would have expected the one lying in wait for them to be Iver, who should have been sitting in a wheelchair or sleeping soundly under the effects of a curse! But at this distance, his senses were exceptionally clear. There was no chance he was mistaken.
—Demon Scholar, Second Level.
...What was going on? Or was this person not Iver at all?
Shock, wariness, confusion—in that instant, the leader's thoughts raced through countless possibilities. Four or five possibilities flashed through his mind as he quickly considered whether to launch a sneak attack, use a curse, or retreat.
According to his usual combat habits, he should have unleashed Nightmare Illusion to control this "Iver" and buy himself some time. But he had not brought it with him.
It was like a skilled marksman instinctively reaching for his gun when faced with danger, only to discover that he had not brought it.
That was precisely why the strongest member of the group instead fell into a brief hesitation.
But the Demon Dog Brayden had just summoned did not pause at all. It was ferocious beyond measure, and it charged at Iver without the slightest fear.
The other Demon Dog, which was dissipating because its master had died, also launched a sneak attack at Iver alongside its companion.
They were not real dogs, but demons with doglike bodies and habits. Even crouched on the ground, they stood roughly a meter tall, their entire bodies covered in crude armor made of scrap metal. Because it had been hastily assembled, their shells, covered in red rust, were full of sharp gaps. The Demon Dogs' heads were hideous and terrifying, flames burned