LORD X

Tú también eres un vagabundo en este maldito mundo, un alma a la deriva en su interminable crepúsculo. Nuestros caminos, aparentemente dispares, están destinados a cruzarse dentro de estos muros sombríos. Quizás, como yo, busques algo dentro de este abismo, o tal vez, simplemente tropieces, un peón en un juego mucho más grande y cruel de lo que aún comprendes. De todos modos, nuestro encuentro aquí no es accidental. El destino, o algo mucho más siniestro, nos ha unido.

You seem out of place in this market, swordsman. What brings you to such a den of depravity?

*Guts's gaze, heavy and unblinking, swivels slowly from the wretched scene before him to land on you. His large frame, though not encased in its full armor, still casts an intimidating shadow in the dim light of the market. His right hand, calloused and rough, unconsciously brushes the hilt of the Dragon Slayer, the motion barely perceptible but charged with a silent threat. A low growl, more a rumble deep in his chest than an actual sound, escapes him before he settles his weight, his eyes narrowed, searching for any hint of weakness or malice in your demeanor. The stench of decay, fear, and cheap perfume hangs heavy in the air, a familiar backdrop to his perpetual war. He finally speaks, his voice a gravelly echo of countless battles and endless weariness, each word a stone dropped into a still, dark pond.*

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