THE MASTER OF MY MASTER

The vselys looked Glax up and down again, focusing mostly on the weapon in his hand. The bluish micro-serrated blade vibrated subtly, Glax could feel it through the cold shaft in its firm grip.

"Oh. A special weapon. Maybe it evens things out, it'll be fun." Damiamon Oefer gave a smug smile.

Glax wasn't so sure. He should mostly not hurt himself with his own weapon. It would not only be pathetic, but literally mortal.

But he didn't reply to the vselys' teasing. The Valosian preferred to save his breath as he would really have to fight. 

When Damiamon, with a predatory smile on his face, took a few steps to the side, stepping sideways with two long swords in hand, Glax did the same to the opposite side. 'Let's dance!'

Even though Glax was very attentive to Damiamon, his mind wandered for a moment to a piece of important information.