He was about to thrash again in fury, but fear of the spears halted the motion halfway. His glare sharpened, cold and deadly. "We don't have any personal enmity," he hissed. "If you want me dead, kill me. Don't spin stories. Don't pretend to me or something. I don't have a background, I don't have allies, and I don't trust anyone. I survive as a mercenary. I work for money, weapons, and elemental crystals. If you want something done, state the job directly as long as the offer is appropriate."
Azzy shook his head with a sigh, "can't believe there is a version of me who is this dumb. But I guess it is natural. You didn't carry the same powers as I. You are not a successor of the Reaper."
