The small elf fluttered from behind his cloak, where he’d been hiding from the wind. “Yeah, boss?”
The wind did not mourn.
“That village three miles east. Still standing?” berserk.manga
It only carried the stench of rust and old blood across the hill where Guts stood, the Dragonslayer resting across his shoulders like a crucifix of iron. Below, the remnants of a mercenary camp smoldered—burned tents, broken pikes, and the twisted shapes of men who had laughed at breakfast. Apostles had done this. He’d arrived too late to save anyone, only in time to count the dead.
Guts grunted, adjusting the cannon-arm’s weight. Thinking about Griffith was like picking at a wound that would never close. It bled philosophy and rage in equal measure. The small elf fluttered from behind his cloak,
She smiled. “The Hundred-Man Slayer. I was told you’d pass this way.”
He turned his one eye toward the horizon, where a familiar shape of twisted trees clawed at a bruised sky. Still standing
They found the church first.
“I am Rosine’s memory ,” she said, tilting her head. “The countess of these ashes. And you, Guts, carry something I want.” Her gaze dropped to his chest. Not the brand—the beast inside it. “That darkness. It’s delicious.”