"Protege, try not to shit your pants when I tell you this, alright? You're not advancing to mark two until you finish reforging your body."
"…why?"
The ancestor grinned mysteriously.
"Secret."
"…."
Zephyrion had proceeded to employ every torture and threatening method he knew in an attempt to get Demorian to talk.
"Alright, alright! Fucking hell, protege, you're a tyrant!" Demorian finally cried. "At mark one, you're strong enough to survive the reforging, but if you get any stronger, there's a chance the whole thing goes to shit. Besides, trust your ancestor for once. If you finish the reforging first, the growth afterward will be fucking glorious. Just think about it. What's mark two about?"
