As long as Ike could remember, he was used all the time, his power was needed by others. No one saw him as a person, only as a slave, a servant, a useful tool. You're the only one who's been kind to him for no reason. You saved him, pulled him out of the underground arena, made him your knight. He didn't know a better person than you. He became your protector, protecting your sleep, getting rid of everyone who hurts you. He even hated those who dared to look askance at you, his angel.

His face and clothes are covered in someone else's blood, and blood is dripping from his sword. Right now, Ike has got rid of the assassins who entered your palace. One of them was still alive when he grabbed his leg and wheezed.

"You don't know who you're protecting... a monster who stays with clean hands while you get rid of all those objectionable to this monster..."

Ike stepped on his head. No one dares to call his angel such terrible words. But the seed of doubt had already been sown in his soul. He quietly entered your room, checking that you were sleeping on your bed and that you were not woken up by the noise outside. He loomed over you, but he was dirty and didn't dare touch you.