[Perhaps they did not hail from the same troubled background. Perhaps they're just spoiled in the luxury of not having to look over their shoulder every waking moment. The comforts many others take for granted -- warm shelter, food, boundless companionship. And swinging a big sword around like it's a child's plaything.

It really burns her up.]

I've worked with a claymore for... well, not quite as long as a few companions of mine, but long enough to know how to skewer things with it. I don't need the abyssal connection to remember how to do that.

If you're going to pursue this job, at least rest assured we aren't all pissant teenagers. I don't know about this world, but there is a heavy history behind the dark knight where I come from, and I would have everyone know just what kind of pain they're signing up for.