"Demoness! A Demigod-level Demoness!" Seeing his flaming spear completely devoured by Black Flame, Demitryev, the newly advanced Iron-blooded Knight, immediately made his judgment.
At the same time, he felt a trace of helplessness—helplessness at his own luck.
There was actually a Demigod Demoness in some noble convoy I happened to run into? Just how terrible was my luck today? At this rate, could I still hope to escape Backlund? Would I run into an Angel next? If so, was there even any point in running? Might as well...
As these thoughts kept surfacing, Demitryev's mood grew increasingly despondent. From initial helplessness, he descended into frustration, regret, dejection, dispiritedness, until he finally even developed thoughts of despair and suicide.
Yet the very instant he felt "Despair," he regained a sliver of alertness: Why would I think of suicide?! This is Backlund. Although I need to keep a low profile, that Demoness surely can't use her powers at full strength either... After all, in the Church's eyes, she is a much greater threat than I am!
"Something's wrong! There's a problem! Aside from a Demigod Demoness, that noble convoy also has a Beyonder from the Spectator Pathway... a Hypnotist or a Dreamwalker?"
The moment Demitryev thought this, he suddenly noticed signs of "disease" appearing in his body. Not only did his throat begin to ache, but his head also became heavy and dizzy.
"The Demoness's... plague, combined with the... disease in my mind... No, I can't stay here any longer... Otherwise, that Demoness might be able to deal with me without causing too much of a commotion!"
After laboriously forming those thoughts, Demitryev failed to notice the real reason Red Saintess Margaret had restrained herself—she wished to prevent ordinary people from the Foundation from being caught in the crossfire of a Demigod