In terms of the swordsman rankings, the "Hero" rank was something in an entirely different realm; for each style, there could only be one hero-rank swordsman.
That meant the man standing before him was a living legend–practically a god himself of the blade.
Though he knew of the sigil, he hardly knew anything about the Two-Faced God itself. There were many thoughts flooding through his mind–though most, if not all were scrambled and discombobulated as he was left swallowed in fear.
He was still in shock from witnessing the man be chopped up, but worse was the realization of just how powerful the one in front of him was.
"You may call me Siegmare, child. By crossing my path, your thread of fate has been woven around the Two-Faced God's finger," the man said.
Between the bony, black-and-white fingers of his free hand, Siegmare caressed the two-sided coin, which had a white side and a black.
