He’s dead, and he didn’t last long. That was to be expected. The man looked like a real devil to me. Heck, even Marquis didn’t stand a chance.
That is what Ibarra hears as he pushes the crowd towards the bridge. Don’t tell me that you’re dead, and you can’t, we promised, aren’t we? We still need to make them pay, don’t die now! Galiet!
There he saw a man out of voice, laying on the rough gravel on his bleeding heart, the gurgling of his mouth from the blood that was eager to spurt out. I have seen our companions die, one by one, but never did I feel this rage, Ibarra thought.
He brings from his side his helmet that he equips back on, covering his black hair as he walks with determination. With the snapping of the leather and metal to his skin, his armors were a perfect fitting as he rai
