Reaching Wrath

Ludwig's skeletal fingers twitched at his sides as the Knight King's spectral form shimmered before him. The memory of the Gluttonous Death's overwhelming power still burned behind his eyelids—the way the Knight King's sword had shattered like glass against that monstrous entity, only to be reforged from pure will.

His voice came out rougher than intended, the echo of battle-lust still thrumming through his undead veins.

"What was that?" Ludwig demanded, his hollow eye sockets wide with something akin to awe. The remnants of the vision clung to him—the stench of blood and rot, the screams of a dying kingdom, the Knight King's final, desperate stand. "Your sword broke, and you… Re-forged it?" He flexed his own weapon hand, imagining the weight of such power.