Frostbound

Miles(cont.)

Somehow, against his better judgment, Miles found his feet taking him in a direction toward the Walls. Gavin had talked him into it while Louis tried to talk him out of it. The devil and angel were sitting on his shoulder and the devil won out.

To be fair to Louis, his mind was made up well before the two tried to convince him.

Ever since Gavin brought it up a week ago, it had been all he could think about. The possibility of seeing the man fight was alluring. Plenty of stories were told about it that piqued his interest and he finally wanted to see for himself.

Which was why he found himself armed and armored, ready for a fight.

As he approached the growing crowd, he tried not to wince at the state of his armor compared to theirs. Miles hadn't exactly had the funds to upgrade what he brought with him, let alone pay for repairs.

He'd left it dirty for so long the metal had started to rust.

One of the worst things to do back home was flaunt something you weren't strong enough to protect. It's become a ritual for him to dirty up the plates of metal to make the chest piece look worse than it was.

Same with the rest of his gear.

Strategically leaving blood in certain places to show that it wasn't worth a fight for it.

That wasn't a thing in Frostheim. Everyone took extreme care of their gear, cleaning and polishing it in a week more than he'd ever done in his life. He'd watched Gavin do it plenty of times even though he wasn't even a melee fighter.

It wasn't only the state of his derelict gear that set him apart, but also the strength. Having used the same set since the tutorial, it was a bit behind him when it came to power.