"Wislin?" The Paladin shook his head, then said, "Lynch, your way of speaking is almost making me dizzy. Aren't I Wislin?"
"Knowing this is enough." Lynch replied, "Now, Paladin, draw your sword and point it at me. Then tell me your thoughts. If you keep hesitating like this, you'll eventually lose all your judgment."
Wislin gritted his teeth and abruptly drew the sword, pointing it at the Mage's nose. He had never thought that this action was so simple, much easier than plunging the blade into the Snake-man's shell. The Mage looked at the weapon in front of him, the smooth edge of the sword reflecting their appearances like a mirror.
"Actually, you could never hurt me." Lynch said, "Neither your weapon nor your heart has any intention of harming me. You're just missing a reason, a pretext to defy that superior order."
