"Look at the armor on its body, not even a scratch, and even for a Berserk Demon, it's too heavy," Lancelot raised his hand to point at the iron behemoth opposite them, "Such armor is more suited for a ceremonial procession or extorting money from ordinary people afraid of being dragged into a war on the streets."
As soon as Lancelot finished, everyone realized the situation, and the faces of the Berserk Demon's underlings turned quite amusing. It was not the embarrassment of their own lies being exposed, rather the awkwardness of being caught in deception in front of a crowd.
"You... what did you say?" the Quasimodo Demon bellowed furiously, "Flog, kill them, and the rest of you, join in!"
"Guah!"