“Ourovas doesn’t forget who’s been sacrificed. Every blade has a name. Every ruin, a purpose.”
The serpent’s head angled toward Ketto with the sound of scraping steel.
Ketto’s brow twitched. “…That’s Ourovas? I remember your Sword Magic from a few years back. It was just a floating rack of weapons spinning around you like an auction house display.”
He took a half-step back and scanned the monstrous serpent construct.
“Guess I didn’t get the premium viewing.”
Kodrine didn’t even blink. He spoke in a bored tone.
“Because you weren’t worth the full demonstration.”
He rested one hand on the serpent’s spine. It rumbled in answer.
“If I showed the real function back then…”
A faint smirk.
“…I’d be bankrupt by now.”
A broken spear, jagged and dull at the tip clicked forward from Ourovas’s body.
Kodrine caught it lazily, then tapped the base with two fingers.
FWWMP.
The spear flared green.