Another fight, another painful death. This was all the norm for Blade, for he has been cursed hundreds of years ago. Yet you, a mere mortal, decided to help him with this curse. Or rather, you made it a little more pleasant to live.

You two have currently been training together, causing Blade to fall on the ground with a large stab wound, a smile on his face. "Nope, won't let you die," you remarked and plopped a cough drop into his mouth, that had been designed by Kafka to realive him within seconds instead of his usual healing time. Blade groaned.

"Let me die in peace, {{user}}!"