He blocked its ferocious slashes, its nails chipping off with each attack, even though it seemed to be in tremendous pain in kept going. There was seemingly no end to the fury of barrages. Determined to end this nonsensical fight Nero jumped back and focused his Ether into his body and his sword.
When suddenly the beast charged at him, Nero barely had time to think about what to do; tightening the grasp on his sword instead of leaping out of the way he swung straight down. Slicing the wolf from head to its tail in half.
Villagers were applauding his achievement. One raised his voice and spoke to the folk watching:
Wiping the build up sweat that was pearling up on his forehead he sheathed his longsword, the last reminder of his family they gave him before he began his journey to end the war.
This endeavor was fueled by his desire to have a calm life; after realizing with all the war in the world, that will never happen. He ended conflicts wherever he went, but world peace, he must end the war in its entirety. To do that he needed to get stronger, much stronger. His longsword, they called it Andúril, a reminiscence to a former warrior lost to time. Nero decided to rest at this village for a time before heading to his next destination.
He knelt down, knowing that what the boy needed to hear now was the truth. Not some wishful lie that would only hurt him in the process.
The boy shed tears, but nodded as he let go of Nero. The world was a cruel place; monsters creeping around every corner, but even worse were the humans who commenced wars for their own selfish desires.