"J-just how old… are you?"
Edward didn't know why he was blurting out such a question. He was at death's door, and this information would do nothing but sate his curiosity before his inevitable demise. Regardless, he asked away.
"Who knows? I remember about seven centuries." The Martial Blade God shrugged.
He didn't seem overly interested in his age—or in that of others too. What held the utmost value to him was one thing… Martial Arts.
Or, rather loosely; strength.
"Why then, do you side with the Nether Cult?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're not evil. I can see it. You wouldn't kill unless it was required… at least I would hope so. This philosophy of yours about life… How does it apply to the Nether Cult?" Edward didn't know how to articulate his thoughts, but he had a major problem with the Martial Blade God's involvement with the Cult.
Somehow… it ruined the sanctity of his focused life.
