Ramza flailed at empty air for a moment as the sword was snatched out of his grasp. He should have expected something like this would happen the moment he looked at the ghostly image of the king and realized just whose sword he wielded. Turning that blade upon its former owner must have been too much for the loyal knights to bear.
His whole life had been a struggle to prove his worth, to earn his right to call himself a 'Beoulve'. He had toiled and trained to be good enough to win the respect of his father and brothers. If Tristan thought to unbalance him with his words, he would be disappointed.
"You wish to see my worth, Thief? Then keep your eyes on me. I do not need a sword to fight for the sake of my people."
He normally directed his freelancer attack with his sword, but the same principle applied to any weapon, did it not? And there was one weapon that now littered the temple floor, thanks to Kay's attack. Ramza picked up a chunk of stone, drawing for the now-familiar power of his Final Fantasy into the rock, and threw it at Tristan.
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His whole life had been a struggle to prove his worth, to earn his right to call himself a 'Beoulve'. He had toiled and trained to be good enough to win the respect of his father and brothers. If Tristan thought to unbalance him with his words, he would be disappointed.
"You wish to see my worth, Thief? Then keep your eyes on me. I do not need a sword to fight for the sake of my people."
He normally directed his freelancer attack with his sword, but the same principle applied to any weapon, did it not? And there was one weapon that now littered the temple floor, thanks to Kay's attack. Ramza picked up a chunk of stone, drawing for the now-familiar power of his Final Fantasy into the rock, and threw it at Tristan.