"His name was... Wrefert. A shy, stuttering little kid abused by his noble family for being a rebel.... But soon, he grew to be a brave man, had a wife, and became a strong and independent individual who isn't afraid to say what's on his mind..." the Armored Rakshashin said, reminiscing the past as he glances to Siglos. "However....." he paused his sentence, as if someone stoped him from speaking, reminded of a horrific scene as flashes of the past invade his mind.
Siglos said nothing for a few, long moments. The Rakshashin story hit close to home, and he found himself growing even more curious about Erebus’s old friends. He glanced up at the man again, noticing his sudden pause.
"H-... He died..." he said, looking down at the ground for a full ten seconds before speaking again. "One night, me and my comrades decide to take on a bounty, just to get some food to alleviate our hunger.... We went all over the place looking for them, but our contractor has been bribed to lure us in the trap...." he continued, his tone empty with emotions, as if he's narrating a story. "Before we knew, cannons, arrows, and spears shot out from all directions. And out of all 15 of us... I'm the sole survivor of mercenary group Snow Hounds."
Siglos froze, his eyes widening as he stared up at Erebus. He said nothing for several, long moments...before gingerly resting a hand on his arm.
"It's fine..." he said, patting the Everian's head gently. "They're gone for over a decade... I'm used to losing people every once in a while... But that doesn't matter now... It's because I've found company with you all... I've found new friends, like you and the rest of the group..."
Siglos said nothing for a moment, before flashing him a soft smile, his ashen hair ruffled by the Rakshashin's large hand.
Erebus smiled in response, "My comrades would want me to stay here... It's their dreams that I'll fulfill in their place...." he said, lifting his arm and glances to Sylvia. "Let's just wait here until the two are done doing their thing."
"...I-I'm glad, Erebus..." Siglos said softly, flashing him a small smile. He went silent for a moment, before continuing.
"Yes?" Erebus responded.
"....." Siglos hesitated for a moment, unsure how he should phrase what was on his mind.
"Oh.... I see..." he says, backing away slowly as he pulls his sword up into the sky.
(I guess in a wall?)(They're in a city.)
Jeanne nodded, before placing her hand on Shalor's shoulder. "Okay, friend... Just... when you feel like it, if you need to, talk to me, alright?"
"Y-yeah, I will, all right?" Shalor said, breathing out in surprise as Jeanne put her hand on his shoulder
Gingerly, Siglos walked the massive weapon, ogling at the sheer size of the blade. It was big, too big, far larger than any greatsword Siglos had seen. Slowly, he lifted a hand, pressing it against the flat of the sword, feeling the texture against his fingers.
The sword contained a lot of nicks and scratches, still having the pungent smell of blood, rust, and guts, more so due to him constantly fighting.
"I do. It was an old witch living in the woods, fabled to be some powerful mage as well as an oracle by the locals. Micheal and I went to her for some guidance as well as new weapons on our next bounty... She told us that this weapon could 'cut' souls, which didn't seem believable. But knowing the rumors surrounding her, it's too good to be true..." Erebus explained.
"All right...!" Shalor responded, a bit of a smile coming back to his face as he kept lockpace with Jeanne beside her
(I'll assume Noah is following them.)
"...I-it...d-doesn't s-seem l-like an n-normal b-blade, t-that's f-for sure..." Siglos murmured. His ears twitched, his Mana Hearing attuning itself to the sound of the blade's magic, should it be enchanted in any way.
The sound of the blade's magic was, very otherworldly. All Siglos could hear are faint, muffled, and unrecognizable screaming as if it was submerged underwater.
Siglos flinched as he heard the otherworldly noise, his ears continuing to twitch. He had heard the sounds of many enchanted artifacts since becoming a merchant...but none of them amounted to anything like this. A soft shiver spread across his body, the Everian taking a ginger step backward from the enchanted metal.
"Well, it depends if you can heal your own soul. But I suggest you wouldn't try." he said, surprised as he saw the man flinch at his sword, slightly confused.
"Yeah, true..." Shalor murmured
"F-fascinating..." Siglos murmured. He seemed...anxious, to go near the blade again, but he continued to ogle it from a foot away.
"Apart from the sword, yeah. Including this piece of crap stuck to me." he said, looking at his accursed armor.
Siglos's gaze shifted towards the man's armor, his eyes widening slightly.
"It's the witch's payment for making the weapons...." he said, as he revealed some parts of it.
Siglos recoiled slightly, watching the seemingly parasitic armor latch onto his flesh. For a brief moment, he hesitated, before slowly holding out his arm. He wasn't exactly...thrilled at the idea of hitting one of his friends with magic, but his curiosity got the better of him.
The Armored Rakshashin didn't seem to flinch. Though the attack did cause some wound, a pair of metallic thorns begin to stitch up the wound in a grizzly manner.
“O-oh!” Siglos said, recoiling backward as he saw the wound stitch itself closed.
Erebus nods as he looks back at his arm.
