It had been a long time since Alastor had heard a demonic language...this wasn't quite the one he was familiar with, but it had the same general feel. To say it made him homesick would be a gross exaggeration, nostalgic would be the better word. It brought to mind the distant past, before he was reduced to a mere Devil Arm. It brought to mind power.

"Nice trick, it's been a while since I heard magic singing."

He gave a thumbs up as he flew past Pidonus, his other hand holding a sword that appeared in a crackle of electricity. He might not have been able to see it directly, but it was a big target and he had its shadow as a guide...how hard could it be to hit it somewhere with an electrified sword?