Futuristic Goat

Ackster stopped trying to stand up after the Sword God's declaration. Since the powerful maniac had said so—so it would be. Ackster wasn't leaving. But as things were looking, Ackster had a feeling the Sword God was leaning toward killing Ackster and securing the sword or securing the sword and leaving Ackster for dead.

For some reason, the Sword God hadn't done so at once, which Ackster was grateful for. But he had to find a way out that didn't involve him turning into a corpse or a resident of the Sword God's scabbard.

"Can I ask what you are—were going to do with his sword, or why you wanted it?"

"It's dangerous. I wanted to secure it."

Ackster hadn't expected the Sword God to have such altruistic purposes.

"Really?"

"Yes. It is powerful. I want it for my collection."

'Ah, that's more like it.'

"Wouldn't it have ended up in your collection if you grabbed it instead of forcing me to do so?"

The Sword God shrugged.