Mein Gott, if you were human, you'd be dead from these injuries. I'm glad I followed the sound of that monster's howling.

[That sound should never come from the throat of a man like Sherlock. The demon's presence is a profanity on the detective's memory, and yet Erhard remembers what he almost did in desperation. He has a sinking feeling this particular demon is far more dangerous than any of the others.

Carefully he applies salve and wraps Moriarty's wounds, grateful that they already seem to be healing slowly on their own.]

And I'm still trying to get used to the concept of magic being a real thing. Magic, Servants, Witches... none of those things exist in my world.