Avram stares at Artorias and his bloody glaive. He mutters something but otherwise seems to remain resolute.

"What was that?" says Jadeite, striding over and running a finger along his neck. "I'm afraid I couldn't hear you over your pulse." He gently presses down on the pirate's jugular. "Don't worry, I have a spell which can easily dry up that problem. And I'm sure your corpse will be much more talkative."

Avram mutters the same thing he did before, but a bit louder. This time, they can make out the word, "Dragon."