Seeing that the item spirit was not responding, Damon signaled to Mark. "Let's go. Maybe he needs some time to think about everything. Sigh. I am getting thirsty again. Her blood was really such a high." He smirked and started walking away when suddenly a shrill voice sounded behind him.
"Blood God. I agree."
Damon smirked. There. Finally, he had a crack in the previously unbreakable wall.
La Rocha had pushed himself upright, though he still looked like a mess, clothes scorched, hair wild, and aura fractured. But there was something in his eyes now that hadn't been there before. Not submission, not trust, but a begrudging acknowledgment.
"I agree," the item spirit repeated, quieter this time. "You are weak, pathetic, arrogant, reckless and a belligerent fool."
Damon's face twitched.