>>5185406>>5185409>>5185410>>5185415>>5185416"...Do I need a better reason than saving a friend? There are only so many people I can count on this wretched land, Guts. And I hope you're still one of them." You soften your posture, hoping that showing more emotions would calm down your old comrade.
"Friend? I don't remember making friends with anyone like you."
"Why don't you take my helmet off and find out who you're talking to? I might look a bit different than when we fought, but I'm still in condition for a rematch one day. Maybe you'll even win this time..." The impatient swordsman removes your helm and pulls your head back, taking a moment to recognize your identity.
"...Vlad...? But... How? Casca told me you died all those years ago... I even saw you in my..." Guts looks more shocked than happy to see you standing, the fact that you were alive seemed to go completely against his narrative.
"What, do you really believe everything people tell you? Just because I disappeared for a few years, doesn't mean I'm dead." You properly explain to him, but still wanting to leave the finer details for later. "I can tell you the rest when Farnese and the others aren't on our tail. For now I need you to answer me some questions."
Guts stays silent, still pondering on how he was fooled by thinking you weren't alive, when he was probably reliving past memories and regretting his mistakes from the past 3 years, but the next sentence seems to make him react.
"Griffith wants to reincarnate in Albion. He plans to sacrifice a few hundred people at the tower where--"
"GRIFFITH!?" The mere mention of his name is enough to send Guts into a frenzy as he clutches your neck. "WHERE IS HE? WHAT WILL HE DO IN THE TOWER? WE NEED TO STOP HIM!"
"Easy there, lad! I need my neck to breathe and all!" His violent outburst shows that he's a lot more prone to rash decisions than before. How badly has life been treating him for Guts to turn this way. "I can tell you have a grudge against Griffith, but I'm the one doing the questions for now." You tap his wrists while trying to pay attention on the road.
"Let him talk, musclehead! We'll go nowhere if you keep interrupting him!" The voice once again makes Guts relax his grip, as if functioning like a shoulder angel.
