andre of astora

“I don't have any to give—it really just depends,” I shrugged and giggled. “I pretty much always just let him go at his own pace now, but I've learned to kind of enjoy that final stretch he gives me when he's popping out, even if it still hurts a little. It's up to you.”

Abner drew his sword, and the blade glowed with searing intensity as a sheath of lightning enveloped it. Applying elemental energy to one’s weapon was basic magic, akin to dousing a blade in oil and lighting it on fire, but this was the next stage, the true combination of warrior and elemental magic, more like a white-hot sword pulled out of a forge. It reminded Noah of plasma weapons he had used in the past, capable of cutting through steel like butter, and Aithorn’s spear techniques.

Sophia clutched her hands tightly. “But I did know. I knew she had that venom because I helped her transfer its abilities to a vial of Abernathy’s Ichor. I warned her what would happen, how dangerous it was to keep that bottle, and implored her to destroy it. She didn’t listen and told me to keep it a secret. To my shame, I did, and now I have the king’s blood, and the blood of countless knights and soldiers on my hands. Cyrilo said she would take responsibility for anything that happened, but all she’s done is go with the flow, hiding behind lies. Every time I try to talk to her about it, about us facing our sins, she silences me. She did it today, which is why I came to you. I must admit, I’ve lost a great deal of respect for her.