First phase (3)

As painful as the situation was, he shouldn't dwell on unrelated matters that much. Sure, there's some questionable thing Gorm did, like stroking his weapon and imbuing the still weapon, forcing it into taking it more than necessary.

In a glance, the worn-out weapon could only wait its time to be destroyed.

He was the experienced warrior, the one who already retired from the battlefield. His dominion and manner suggested he was from a northern continent. An ice-type. And he was a royal too.

The ice was blazing strongly, prominently for the eyes to see as clear as the sky. It was sturdy, beautiful blue-ish color, and crazy.

"You are royal." Sawyer spat after considering all the options.

Gorm kneeled on his leg on the ground, heavy breathing. His body jerked, responding to the statement. "Young man, you don't know what you are talking about."