Finally, a tattered grayish-white blood-stained cloak flew over and landed on its shoulders.
Clang!
The black long knife flashed its edge.
In just a breath's time, the wraith general who originally seemed decrepit and vulnerable became a tall, sharp-spirited undead general.
"Young man, can you use a sword?"
The tip of the sword slowly lifted, pointing directly at Rogel.
If conditions allowed, Rogel would very much like to brandish a blade like a swordsman at this moment.
But…
"...No, I can't."
Rogel said, somewhat embarrassed.
When he said this, the wraith general also fell silent.
"...Are you really sure you can't?"
"Truly, I can't."
Rogel said honestly.
After hearing this, the wraith general sighed and sat down again, with the spirit fire in his eye sockets dimming slightly.
He seemed quite disappointed that Rogel couldn't use a sword.
Seeing this situation, an idea suddenly popped into Rogel's mind.
He spoke with a hint of trial in his voice.
