Ike's first reaction was a silent, inward groan. [i]Another[/i] person who wanted to kill him. He was, quite frankly, sick of being targeted for things he'd done when his mind wasn't quite right; but he understood their reasoning. And yet he would force himself to live on. And so he pushed himself to his feet, gritting his teeth as the crimson dust from the bodies drifted over and were absorbed into Ike's body. He let out a soft sigh as the life force replenished his energy and strengthened his muscles, sharpened his senses. He then gazed at Sam, caution in his expression and stance. His left hand was behind his back, resting on a magic tome hidden away from the man, while the tip of his sword was pointed at Sam in caution. "Wh-what?" He stuttered out. "I guess you're here to kill me or something, right?" Part of him wondered why his existence was nothing but a constant fight for survival. But that was something unimportant; he had to focus.