“There’s no need for me to continue hiding in this shabby room any further.” The Bloodsoaked Queen had already made up her mind.  “I admit that you were of assistance to me. The warriors of the gods do not forget those who provided them succor! I can agree to any one request of yours, so long as it isn’t an excessive one. Speak!”

 “You obstinate, daydreaming fool!” The Queen’s face quickly hardened once more. She said in her customary, cold voice,    “I can teach you, yes… but I have to warn you right now that if you don’t have the necessary talent or the blessings of the gods, these techniques will be completely useless to you, even if by some miracle you actually manage to master them.”

“No need to put on pretenses in front of me.” The Bloodsoaked Queen’s hoarse voice sounded like the shattering of glass, but a hint of rage could be heard within that sinister coldness. The rage didn’t seem like a blazing inferno; rather, it was like smoldering coals that had long ago merged into her soul and become a part of her “I know who you are, and I know why you have come here. I also know who it is that stands behind you. So… let’s cut the crap. I’ll give you a chance. Come at me.”