"Everybody, stop fighting!"
(ノω<.)ノ☆..~
"Stop it already! I'm not here to fight you today!"
o(??ˇ?ˇ??)o
Finally,
at the impatient command of a little girl, and after a fellow named Diablo hesitantly raised his hand, the demons who had swarmed forward and nearly hacked a certain Maiar demigod, Gandalf, to death slowly backed away.
He had killed a horned demon wielding a huge scimitar with a slash of his sword, knocked down a nasty fire-wielding demoness with a swing of his staff, and then brought down another hideous demon with four arms and four deadly blades, who'd tried to match his two fists with all four hands. Only then had the demons, who'd still been trying to overwhelm him with sheer numbers, begun to retreat.
"..."
Looking at the demons strewn all around him, then at the leader of the Blades, whose head he'd smashed with a single blow from his staff and who was still twitching on the ground, and finally at his own scorched-black White Wizard's robes, Gandalf's expression darkened.
He'd known all along that the demons from Hell wouldn't be easy to deal with. Even the tiny little Imp from earlier—the small fry he'd thought he could handle with ease—had nearly dealt him a grievous wound. And it had done so by trading its life for the blow.
Then,
looking at the demons around him that exploded on death, releasing poison or flames, and at the several red- and blue-skinned demon mages farther away, wielding skull-topped staffs, Gandalf felt his scalp prickle.
They could cast fireballs, and they could endlessly resurrect the smaller, weaker demons. He'd nearly been overwhelmed.
Of course, the one he found particularly troublesome was the female archer in the distance, wearing white armor, a white horned helmet, and crimson battle trousers. Her fire arrows