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At the sight of the unexpected visitor, Syrin sprang to his feet with a loud thud. The Blood Moon light streamed through his hair, illuminating half his face, frozen in shock. "You… why are you here…"
"Probably just to see that expression," Ashe said with a smile.
He continued lightly, "Ashe Heath, who never learned swordsmanship, faces an arrogant elven swordsman in battle, defeats him by sheer miracle, escapes from prison, tracks down the man who framed him, and begins a tumultuous life of revenge. What do you think of that script?"
Ashe added with a hint of playfulness, "Oh, and don't move. My fingers might slip."
A sudden chill traced the line of Syrin's neck. Warm liquid trickled into his collar.
Ashe said seriously, "Don't lower your head. It'll fall off."
He formed a sword gesture with his right hand and pointed it directly at the elven professor. From beneath his tongue, Ashe drew a sword and planted it on the floor, activating the Sword Barrier Miracle he had prepared in advance.
Syrin's gaze flicked downward. "Swordhea… Varkas's Swordheart spirit? I see now. I had wondered. Varkas was never careless. If he truly wanted you dead, there's no way he would have let you slip through. Such a 'mistake' only makes sense if it was...
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