Garion walked through another district of the demon city, his pace steady but his expression growing darker by the second.
Demons filled the streets.
Too many of them.
Some argued loudly.
Others laughed while dragging struggling creatures behind them.
A few stood still, watching everything with eyes that never blinked.
Garion clenched his jaw.
"…Just where am I supposed to find demons good enough to join my God Gym?" he muttered.
He stopped near a wide intersection and looked around slowly.
"Just what the hell is wrong with this demon world?"
Atlas answered right away.
[What can I say?]
[They are called demons for a reason.]
Garion clicked his tongue.
"Damn it," he said. "At least let me meet one decent candidate."
He resumed walking.
Not far ahead, a group of demons caught his attention.
Their bodies were thin and twisted, covered in flickering runes.
Chains of light floated around their arms and torsos, tightening and loosening on their own.
Garion slowed.
