"I mean, death is kinda bleh on my end, mainly because if my body is destroyed, I have no soul to back it up, so I basically just cease to exist myself regardless. Suffice to say, I hate the idea of dying, and the idea of burning myself into more ethereal debt by asking Cataclysm to remove the Reapers' powers from them, if I can even manage that." Sacred exposits, halfway paying attention to the group behind him and more or less taking an unconscious head of the party, scouting the building with his map as often as possible.
Truthfully, it makes him look almost a bit paranoid, like he's expecting some ostensible demonic wretch of unknown suffering to simply leap from the black to be cut down by a swift motion of the hand. The boy has always held an affinity for showing out in front of new crowds, and this seems like a perfect chance to garner a quick ego boost to offset the monotony.
"Sometimes I wish I were a Saungrel so I could just craft a body out of thin air or something and slash at it, just for a little scare. Foreboding is not my groove." he thinks, eyes sweeping the vicinity with a nigh-cliche level of scrutiny.
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