𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐨𝐝

“Stricken down before me, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐚!“

Some elf yapping, too, probably.

Letting out a soft yawn…

“… Why does my chest hurt when I see pink…”

You surely aren’t calling *that* spellcrafting, are you?

A quick breakfast this morning.

Maybe she’ll continue those studies later. Trying to decrypt a fellow archmage’s weaponry is… Tiring, to say the least.

“… The blade understands it has a new owner… How peculiar. It is a mere /thing/ and yet refuses to act as the tool it is.”

Less competition for me.

“I didn’t realize I enjoyed the color pink…”

Far too revealing..

Stretching…

“I am a sword magus.” Though clearly bereft of a sword. “I am able to replicate any weapon I have laid eyes upon or forged. Including the power they do possess. Of course.. Those of pure divinity? Are impossible, as it could be expected.”

“I see. I suppose I may your wildcard, somewhat.”

“Have you seen someone manifest their focus to utilize other spells?”