The young knight made a sour face at the vanished evidence, but that was not the only thing bothering him. When the urgency of battle drained from his system, an aching suddenly gripped his missing arm. The wound seemed to be burning, a sharp pain as though it was being prodded with a burning hot iron. He was forced to cant his face downwards to hide the pained expression from Ezekiel, but luckily enough, the feeling gave him mercy and subsided. As the pain cleared away, a piece of the weight ever-present in his chest so very slightly lessened along with it. He felt better than he did in a what seemed like a very long while. Perhaps since he had been kindled. Was this a sign that he was overcoming the control of the presence, of his very strange brand of demonization? He felt like jumping in joy at the prospect of a life free from the fear of the wretchedness he bred and housed. But this uplifting feeling washed away as soon as his sense of logic floated back after the tide of optimism quickly drained away. 

It can't possibly be that easy. 

	He quickly joined beside the knight and propped himself underneath Lucas' arm again, giving both of them a look. "Wonder how long he'll be out for... we can't keep lugging him around all night. At this rate, we won't have an strength left to deal with our culprit." he breathed, suddenly getting serious, "...Say, you are one of the finest mage-knights in our order, brother Ezekiel. I'm sure Maya has taught you a great many things. May I ask you something about demonization...?" 

	As he said this, the dark red eyes glanced over as though in doubt, then turned away, "Ah, forget about it. Let us find Henry first and make it all out alive. Then we can sit and talk."

...