"You can't carry all that, look for food instead!"
Pouteen scolds the young Daka, who is trying to tie two long swords to his belt.
The child is a head shorter than me, and I chuckle as I approach him.
"Come here Daka, since you like these blades so much, I will hold one for you until you learn how to use the other one."
The young man jumps at the sound of my voice, when he turns around he is pointing at himself with wide-eyed wonder.
"My... m... my lord... you know my name?"
The owners of the swords have been blown to bits with Ilsip, the blades have blood sprayed on them from the cloud of pink mist that was created.
"Of course, that goes for all of you, If you want me to hold something in trust for you, do not hesitate to tell me!"
Those who are kneeling are astounded by the generosity, Graman-son would hold their items permanently, and he doesn't have a semereu.
