Greil sees a familiar face. He hadn’t gotten the chance to see it under the armor when they last dueled, but he recognized him all the same. Didn’t Ike say he killed him? Greil has no reason to doubt his son, yet it looks like fate has her own plans.
He squints his eyes, brows tense as he takes a long glance at him — his former student and soldier, working as a knight in this land, of all places?
The mercenary could only hope that there would be no more reason to face him anymore, or for him to challenge Greil anymore. They were both alive, now no longer on different sides of conflict and war.
There’s nothing for him to say to Zelgius. And so, he walks away before a conversation could be had.
He turns at the last moment. It is him. He felt it the moment they passed one another, the same as when they had passed before, years ago. He need not look for confirmation.
There is no longer a part of him that yearns for validation. There is little for him to act on, as vain as his quest had been. Gawain already lives on in Ike; why would he return now? (Though, why too would Zelgius himself reappear?)
There was a time that Zelgius would have sacrificed much for one more lesson with him. As much as his Lord had guided him, aided him, healed him, it was incomparable to his crusade of skill under Gawain. That wholeness, in pursuit of talent, that his mentor had left him hungry with. His mentor, that had left him alone.
His lips start to part, but he hesitates: would Gawain even want to see him again? His bloodstained claws were no longer the property of a valiant knight of Daein, no matter how much he believed to champion its restoration. Would Gawain understand, just he had always seemed to before? Wordlessly?
His teeth clench, cutting the inside of his lip.
"I wish you well," is all he can muster before turning his back.