With surprise evident in his eyes, Hades watched interestingly as the wounds on his arms immediately closed up, leaving behind the pain of the injuries he had inflicted upon himself.
"Why did you heal me?" Hades suddenly asked as Sir Doraimon turned to look him in the eye.
"Don't you want to be healed, young master Hades?" he asked, the hair at the back of his neck rising.
"I do," Hades replied.
"Then your wishes are my command, young master, as ordered by your father, the king..." he said with a bow as Hades' eyes flashed a weird light and he turned to look outside where the slaves were being continuously whipped and roughly dragged forward.
"My wishes are your command, you say?" he asked once more.
"Yes, young master. Anything you wish for must be done."
"Then, stop those guards from lashing the slaves."
"WHAT?!" Sir Doraimon looked at him as if he had seen a ghost, but his shock dissipated when Hades turned to him.
