"Sir, I am willing to lay down my life for you."
McGraw knelt half-way inside the carriage, his head bowed low, his tone utterly resolute, as if this had always been his deepest desire.
If anyone could look closely, they would find McGraw's body was trembling slightly, not because he was lying, but because he was yet to calm down from the excitement.
He was a clever beggar, and had heard some abnormal tales from the mouths of some old vagabonds. Being from the Federation, he had naturally heard of the "Twelve Saints" as well, but he always thought stories were just stories.
That is, until just moments ago, when he drank that potion that looked like clear water.
It was hard for him to describe how he felt in that moment; all he knew was that had the sir not held him down at the critical moment, he might have lost control and swayed out of the carriage, soaring through the air like a gentle breeze.
