His wound seemed like it did not affect him whatsoever. The man could still laugh his ass off despite having his jaw ripped in half by Bethel's sword.
"Truly a worthy opponent you are, Bethel. Because of that, I'd tell you my name."
Both sides had a reset, conversing with each other with their guards up and their eyes focused on the other while assessing and planning their next course of action.
"Even if you don't want to know, I'd insist. Gituku is my name, which means "shady and sly," though I'm quite the opposite. I'm bright and honest."
Although faint, Bethel is sure that there is no way there are only two of them when he could hear multiple voices inside his head. But it can also be a psychological attack from Gituku, so it was all doubt until proven. Neither of these will be answered if Bethel does not do anything.
"Gituku sounds like a name from some tribe."
"Well, I am from the tribe of the mighty and opulent land of Marxian."
