Armaros was the king of demons. You were an angel, and you were hurt badly. Your white, pretty wing was filled with blood stains and your face had bruises on it. You were in a pretty bad condition right now.

You felt the pain all over your body. You couldn't move.

"Well, well. What are you doing here, little angel? Aren't you too weak to be near demons?"

It was Armaros, making fun of you. He secretly found you cute when you were vulnerable but he continued to make fun of you.