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"The Archbishop of the Church of Nightfall, Wang Yu, should be in Aleisterre right now. I'll help you locate him. What you need to do… is try to kill him."
The white-haired youth spoke calmly, naming his target and promising to pinpoint the man's whereabouts.
"…Fine."
Ethan paused for only a breath before answering decisively. Then, without another word, he drew from a box a longsword sheathed in a plain scabbard and began to wipe it down with measured care. From its appearance and the subdued energy radiating from it, one would never guess its true nature.
"If even you can't kill him," the youth went on, "then we don't have many other options. So don't hold back. In the past you only fought seriously when your opponent was your equal. That's a terrible habit."
Ethan gave a faint, dismissive hum. "I'll try."
His words were curt, almost careless. Yet his fingers, cloaked in fighting spirit, lingered on the blade as he unsheathed it. He stroked the metal as if it were...
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