Lancelot seemed to react only at the last moment, suddenly jumping to the side and crashing into the pile of weapons. Instantly, all sorts of weapons clanged and scattered across the ground.
"You-you-don't come any closer! Weren't you going to see the effect of the Cold Iron Weapon? I haven't even picked up a weapon yet!" Lancelot shouted in a panicked tone, swiftly climbing to his feet with a very ordinary Cold Iron Longsword now in his hand.
The Berserk Demon, having lunged at empty air, slowly came to his senses. This creature, clad in Golden Chainmail and wielding a Golden Scepter, was as garish as a giant toad, almost as much as those bald Cultivators in their Monastery with their venerated icons.
This Molo seems to be really wealthy, I'd better play out this act in full.
Lancelot retreated step by step, seemingly terrified.
