Spring sword...? He ponders the significance of that.
Soon enough, Guts ends up holding the Healing Sword in hand, wondering why all the morning drama turned out to be for something that was not a big deal at all. He could've finished the rest of the milk he left behind! How annoying. Maybe he should make Lashan wait, next time, if it was all going to be a bunch of theater.
"I'm not a blacksmith," he replies, starting to notice something odd about the blade.
His pain was fading, somehow. But that couldn't be related to the sword. Swords weren't tools for healing. Still, he gives the make a more thorough examination, having only stolen a small glance at the steel the first time around. While he wasnt a blacksmith, he was most certainly a swordsman, and he balances the handle in his palm with an easy and confident smoothness.
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Soon enough, Guts ends up holding the Healing Sword in hand, wondering why all the morning drama turned out to be for something that was not a big deal at all. He could've finished the rest of the milk he left behind! How annoying. Maybe he should make Lashan wait, next time, if it was all going to be a bunch of theater.
"I'm not a blacksmith," he replies, starting to notice something odd about the blade.
His pain was fading, somehow. But that couldn't be related to the sword. Swords weren't tools for healing. Still, he gives the make a more thorough examination, having only stolen a small glance at the steel the first time around. While he wasnt a blacksmith, he was most certainly a swordsman, and he balances the handle in his palm with an easy and confident smoothness.