A Bitter Note from the Crestfallen Warrior

Apparently there is a new opportunity to fuck around as a mass murderer, deep inside the catacomb where every skull rises from their grave. Herein lies the sword of a great warrior, bathed not only with the blood of their foes but also the dark vengeance they lashed upon the world. A sword so magnificent that it can't simply be hold by the ordinary. Without mustering enough strength and courage, it is simply an impossible quest.

I was there when a new challenger approaches the bonfire. I offered him some advice and for a second I really care about his well-being. Such a young person to fall into the purgatory that is this world. Death would have been a thousand times better, yet this world does not even regard the salvation found in eternal peace. But when you have lived for as long as I do, you will be able to appreciate the banality of eternal damnation. I believe he, too, will be able to feel the same way as I.

Luckily, I am too old to care about heroism or whatnot. But this man in front of me, something is different from the way he looked at me. This person seems so determined, so knowledgeable about the danger that he will have to go through. "To put an end to the Age of Fire," he said. I have never heard such thing in centuries. Whatever, it's none of my concern.