Akron looked down to the blade at the knight's notice.
"This? Thanks, although it's barely a sword at that. Rather a literal extension of my body."
The blade suddenly liquefied into Crimson and entered Akron's arms. It then came back out and hardened into a different type of sword. One mirroring Artorias's.
English
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Artorias breathes deeply, looking at the dark sword. "You are quite exceptional, your skills especially, I see. Wouldn't be a traditional Knight in my homeland. Aren't allowed to use magic, you see. Just trained to be adept with the sword."
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He spins the sword in his hand with surprising grace. "I tend to follow those values too, when I battle a fellow warrior. But here in a place where survival is the only law, you must do what you must. But don't worry, my land is very similar to yours. We may yet fully understand each other."