"War." the black shadow uttered in human speech, the sound hoarse and grating like metal scratching against stone: "War-born."
Elias raised his head; the flames in his eye sockets danced peacefully, unwavering, his deep voice resonating: "Guardian Spirit of the ancient battlefield."
The ancient battlefield's Guardian Spirit tilted its distorted head, as if hearing something incredibly funny: "Guardian Spirit? Are you talking about me?"
The shadow suddenly laughed loudly, the laughter piercing, the tone manic and full of mockery: "How come I don't know I'm some Guardian Spirit? I am just remnants, trash left behind! War, what did you come here for? Why did this place turn out like this, becoming a dumping ground for corpses; don't you know very well? That hypocritical, saintly appearance - no wonder everyone detests you."
It seemed to have suffered some stimulation upon seeing Elias, or perhaps it wanted to vent all the resentment accumulated over thousands of years in one go.
