The berserker trembled. Purple blood gouged out its mouth and severed limbs. "H… help… me."
'Kill!' Soulcleaver shouted in Aito's head.
His mind that had just awakened from his bloodlust ached at the vicious voice's order. Taking advantage of his sanity, he immediately hurled the ax away. Soulcleaver's thoughts progressively fell silent as the ax disappeared far from Aito's vision.
'That weapon... is more dangerous than I originally thought it was,' Aito considered. Feeling the exhaustion getting to him again, he fought to stay up.
'More importantly, what did that thing just say?' He laid his gaze on the berserker, choking on its own blood.
The monster kept calling for help that would never come. Aito could read fear, anxiousness, torment in its red eyes.
"What are you?" He asked, leaning forward. "If you can answer my question, I promise you a quick, painless death."
"Long ago, absorbing souls from a distance was a privileged ability acclaimed by all but also used by a few. Only bravers had the opportunity to wield this kind of skill. Try as they may, people of Iris had never been able to reproduce this skill that disappeared with the Fall of Valinar and the death of the last genuine braver. Years later, only a pale copy of this skill remained... until the Woodcutter appeared."
Extract from "Yggdrasil Chronicles, the Woodcutter of Iris," by Roan the Merchant.