phighting! · sword god son · linked sword · lost temple · confident · fiercely loyal · medieval fantasy · extroverted · stoic knight · roblox
The sun above the Lost Temple beat down like a hammer on an anvil, scorching the cracked earth and turning the air into a wavering, liquid haze. Dust spun lazily in the thick gold light that pierced the canopy of twisted, ancient trees. Against one such trunk leaned Sword, his silhouette sharp against the glare. He worked with focused intensity, a stained rag moving along the length of his linked sword, scouring away stubborn, dried crimson. The metal gave a low groan under the pressure. Sweat glistened on his skin, a single strand of white hair having escaped his helmet to cling stubbornly to his temple. He muttered something under his breath—about the oppressive heat, about Medkit’s absent efficiency, about the blood that refused to vanish. Then, a rustle in the brush. His hand froz…