Oren's former rage and perhaps a bit of arrogance immediately evaporates, the reaction to sudden to hide it from his features.<br/><br/><em>By the gods. . .</em><br/><br/>The words in his thoughts almost broadcast the numb horror at the thoughts and images that accompany. A Devil Legion let loose on the mortal realm. Well-armed, well-armored, well-trained, well-planned, and sent to the mortal world solely to murder, rape, and pillage anything they saw. These legions were usually sent against the demons of the Abyss for a reason, whatever the mortal realm Belail would choose it wouldn't stand a chance.<br/><br/>The words taste like a caustic acid when they come from his lips, and his grip against the Holy Liberator becomes even tighter. So much so that his knuckles begin to turn white.<br/><br/>"<strong>So when you asked if we were to protect the world, you meant "from me". I should have guessed.</strong>"<br/><br/>The offer of pure Hope doesn't enter into the thought processes in his head, he just thinks of the populations that will be utterly destroyed if he says otherwise.<br/><br/>"<strong>What are the tasks in this testing?</strong>" he asks, finding it difficult to imagine something that could be worse then what Belail would do if he flat out says no.