SCRA Recruitment Centre

[Euca]

Ivan felt a rush of relief. He took a moment to brainstorm his answer, then replied.

"My mother is my strength. If I were to flee midway an invasion, I should be shot. Many times. I remember her to be strong, not to indulge in weaknesses." I van notices as the man picks up the blade.

"If you want to trust me, don't trust me in my words, as they are but mere sounds that are hollow. Instead..." Ivan said, taking the Kusarian Blade from the man's hands, then pressing the blade into his own. A trickle of blood poured from his hands, oozing down between the many lines and crests in his palm, then dripping onto the table.

"...trust me in my own blood." He finished, as he felt the relief of the blade that was still sharp, despite its long history.

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