How could a spear get stored in one hand, you ask?
How would I know?
Not even Valmeier knew why. The Spear of Judgment flew to him and embedded itself in his palm without his consent. Stupidly making him the sacrificial pawn. If it was other people—like me, for example—they would just run away; fuck the kingdom or whatever.
At least, I was sure I wouldn't just agree to become their cleaning dog without even receiving credit. Freaking petty princess bitch!
Ahem—excuse me for a bit.
Unfortunately, Valmeier was a good kid. Too good of a kid. He was like those good, obedient model students who did everything their parents told them to, including getting extra lessons until late at night and on the weekend.
So he did what they told him to, like a selfless tragic hero.
