☀️ Arselia and Akonia

“Well, darling, don’t let me down,” Thrakia wipes dust off Klin’s armor with her palm, then kisses him on the cheek, unconcerned by the fact that she knows he is undead, “I’ll be rooting for you.” Stepping onto the long-awaited arena amidst the various shouts of spectators eager for bloody entertainment, Klin (and his companions among the spectators) saw his first opponent. It was a young slave named Yermak. At this event, he represented Kingalud. “You’re… kind of bluish,” Klin said, patting his opponent on the shoulder with a friendly smile. “Another slave, I presume? Don’t let this break you, friend. As long as you have your hands, feet, and your body and mind are functioning… life can always take a turn for the better.” Scratching the back of his head, the young man looked away. “Just imagine, in our fight, I win – which, by the way, is what I intend to do – I take your life, and then I’ll walk around all gloomy. Wouldn’t that be unpleasant for you in the afterlife? It would be for me. So don’t despair. Alright, silent one, may the strongest and most worthy win.”