[ The place doesn't need money? That's a comment that makes Rokurou hesitate. Any town, city, or village he's passed through have always cost a little something for inns or merchants. Any ruins were deserted and overrun with monsters, so it made sense that no one would be there, but if this is a perfectly fine place then why would everything be free?

It isn't something he gets to mull over long. Dumbfounded, the daemon stares out at the expanse of buildings. Yes, he's been to the capital back home and isn't a stranger to ornate buildings and roads, but this is ... massive. A blend of concrete and metal, where asphalt sits strong in his nose and the gleam off of windows forces his eyes into a squint.

Rokurou follows after Nanase while digesting the sights. Forget the size, there are so many things he's never even seen before. ]

Huh? [ he's still kind of stupid when the other asks his question; after a few blinks, ] I don't. The forger ... he's always been shrouded in mystery. It's a great name though, right? Every swing is so mighty that it makes howling winds that can level mountains, or so the legends say.

[ The more they travel, the more he notices—no people. It's strange, so much like the nights of the scarlet moon back home. Nights when daemons would flood and people would be ripped from their beds if they were unlucky. Everything left in a state of lurch. ]

—how long have you been here?