The Guardian's breath hitched as Uriel uttered those words.
Just like all Guardians, he was trained for war and battle, but unlike the Silver Robe Guardians, he wasn't used to fighting humans.
All he did was cut down beasts from time to time and handle administrative matters. He wasn't as sharp as the truly battle-forged Guardians.
And Uriel knew it. He knew that he knew.
From the beginning, the boy had been playing with him, slowly stirring his emotions and continuously toying with his mind, as if all he desired was to make him attack.
It was like Uriel wanted him to strike first.
"W-why do you say that?" he asked, his voice shaky as he lowered his blade.
He wouldn't let Uriel dictate things.
"Why?" Uriel raised a brow, almost confused. "Because I'm going to ascend the Spire—why else?"
Uriel looked at him as if he were a fool. "If you, an esteemed Guardian, fear striking down a boy like me, what can the rest of you do?"
