He really should have known better than to have faith.
When has believing in other people ever gone well for him? When has it ever led to something good? No. Never. It's always...always been something like this, a painful situation, and losing something he didn't want to lose, and he doesn't know why he believed, but he wanted to--
And it hurts.
He ran, because he believed, and because Namazuo seemed like the sort who believed too, and that was the fatal flaw. As soon as he was out of range of the first monster, he slows, and then he sees the second double back--he turns then in a panic, because he knows what that means. If both of them are focused on Namazuo, there's no way this can go well. Even a sword can't handle too many enemies.
Especially enemies made of metal and junk, instead of flesh. Swords were never made to fight things like this.
And it's not enough.
The scene he comes across is a disaster, and he'd known it would be. He hates that he'd known it would be. He hates that he was right.
Immediately, he's lunging forward, but it's with cold, calculated fury. He can process what happened later. Right now, he knows he has a task he has to accomplish--he has to grab those pieces of Namazuo's vessel, the broken, snapped sword, and he has to do it without dying. Dying now would just be a mockery of what he's done.
He makes use of every arte he can as he ducks and avoids the other monster still alive, and he knows he has to hurry--the previous monster is slowly piecing itself back together, and it seems cruel, really, that this would be the ending someone like Namazuo would face for no good reason at all.
But he just clenches his teeth, and he utilizes every skill, every bit of strength, and when he escapes the mass of monster limbs, he's more bruised, but he has Namazuo's vessel in his hands, both pieces held tightly. He'll... carry them, until they fade away if they do here, or until he can return them, or until whatever happens to them happens.
But he couldn't just leave them there, and as he starts to limp his way away again, bitter and pained, he knows--
He shouldn't have trusted a single word he'd said.]
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He really should have known better than to have faith.
When has believing in other people ever gone well for him? When has it ever led to something good? No. Never. It's always...always been something like this, a painful situation, and losing something he didn't want to lose, and he doesn't know why he believed, but he wanted to--
And it hurts.
He ran, because he believed, and because Namazuo seemed like the sort who believed too, and that was the fatal flaw. As soon as he was out of range of the first monster, he slows, and then he sees the second double back--he turns then in a panic, because he knows what that means. If both of them are focused on Namazuo, there's no way this can go well. Even a sword can't handle too many enemies.
Especially enemies made of metal and junk, instead of flesh. Swords were never made to fight things like this.
And it's not enough.
The scene he comes across is a disaster, and he'd known it would be. He hates that he'd known it would be. He hates that he was right.
Immediately, he's lunging forward, but it's with cold, calculated fury. He can process what happened later. Right now, he knows he has a task he has to accomplish--he has to grab those pieces of Namazuo's vessel, the broken, snapped sword, and he has to do it without dying. Dying now would just be a mockery of what he's done.
He makes use of every arte he can as he ducks and avoids the other monster still alive, and he knows he has to hurry--the previous monster is slowly piecing itself back together, and it seems cruel, really, that this would be the ending someone like Namazuo would face for no good reason at all.
But he just clenches his teeth, and he utilizes every skill, every bit of strength, and when he escapes the mass of monster limbs, he's more bruised, but he has Namazuo's vessel in his hands, both pieces held tightly. He'll... carry them, until they fade away if they do here, or until he can return them, or until whatever happens to them happens.
But he couldn't just leave them there, and as he starts to limp his way away again, bitter and pained, he knows--
He shouldn't have trusted a single word he'd said.]