There he is, Amadeus Galiet Licand standing on his might. I do not understand why I could not remember fighting in here before. What happened that night. I guess I will find out either way.
“Come psycho, entertain your daddy,” Gray said.
Amadeus was wearing a steel breastplate, pauldrons, braces, boots, and his favorite weapon, his long sword. He walks slowly and with care towards the middle of the bridge, understanding and observing his enemy’s movement in the hope of finding weaknesses.
“Amadeus! Your helm!” one of the Grearian said.
“He doesn’t wear one,” Ibarra said.
“He doesn’t?” the man said.
“Yes, he thinks it’s a hindrance to his eyesight,” Ibarra explained.
“And here I thought he lost it all in his battle,” another man said.
“Is there a chance he will win this?” Ibarra sai
