(Keep in mind, Mozgus hasn't become an Apostle yet. And the man on the other side is the head of a church's heresy tribunal, so we can't just charge in recklessly. Besides, we're in a hurry.)
"What a wild mount. Looks like you've found yourself a good friend." A knight sat astride what seemed at first glance to be a skeletal horse. But on closer inspection, it was simply a warhorse wearing armor shaped like a skeleton. The knight himself was clad in full-body armor made of some unknown metal, emblazoned with a skull motif.
"So it's you." Guts looked down at the Skeleton Knight with a complicated expression.
"You know him?" the young lady beside him asked curiously.
In a world with a different aesthetic, someone dressed like that would surely be a villainous Big Boss. But from the looks of things, that didn't seem to be the case.
"This is the guy I told you saved me and Casca." Guts's face was filled with emotions that were hard to pin down—resignation, distress, perhaps even hatred.
Clearly, though, that hatred wasn't directed at the Skeleton Knight. It had simply brought back memories of the helplessness he'd felt back then, and his hatred for Griffith.
"I didn't expect to run into you here after two years. You've lived a long time, struggler." The Skeleton Knight spoke with a wistful air.
Back then, he'd charged into the sacrificial ceremony and rescued Guts and Casca for one simple reason: he didn't want the two people who meant the most to Griffith to be offered as sacrifices and thereby make Griffith even more complete.
The process of becoming an Apostle was utterly cruel and horrifying.
To become an Apostle, you had to sacrifice what you treasured most. In Griffith's case, that was the