His chest heaved, and he seemed to be struggling just to stand, forced to lean against the cold rock behind him.
"What's…"
Puzzled by the sight, Roland drew closer and asked with concern.
"Ellis, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"
"Ah… Rudolph…"
Ellis looked up at the sound of his voice and managed a wry smile.
Much like Holland, Ellis had grown closer to Roland after spending so much time together and fighting side by side. The Mage's address had shifted from the relatively formal "Mr. Rudolph" to a more casual "Rudolph."
He raised a hand to massage his aching thigh muscles, his voice a weary, raspy murmur.
"I… I think I finally get it now… why all those old Mages at the academy get so obsessed with exploring the secrets of Warlocks in their twilight years. Why they'd even go so far as to try and nourish their… frail bodies… with special bloodlines at any cost…"
He took a deep breath, as if the mere act of speaking was draining his strength.
