A broken trophy. A memento to what has not been done, not to what will be... So tell me, Wolfe. What do I have to give you for this broken memory?

When you earn the sword, you'll get it back. Here you sit, one of the greatest to set foot here, hardly fighting, only hanging on to exact his own pent-up anger... This is what you wanted to end, the hatred, the conflict. And here you are, a proponent of it all... The sword was wielded by a man, not a waste of flesh and dust dedicated to an ill-fated revenge.

I'll fight when this place proves to me it's really worth fighting for... But who are you to talk? A man beneath guns, blades, armour and insults, a Wolf that follows the Snake for fear of the past repeating itself. You don't need to answer that, merc. If we can't have business? Then this discussion is over. I'll see you on the battlefield... Not as enemies, but as two observers watching the same coin flip.