"Koumyou Sanzo," the priest corrects easily, "or just Sanzo."

He's getting used to people assuming the latter is just a surname, but he can't let random people call him by his homyo alone. It's just not at all appropriate.

Koumyou lets him have access to the other hand, too, just as bruised as the first. Someone doesn't favor one fist over the other, for robot-punching.

"I also use chi," he says with an easy wave of his already-gooped hand. "And if a situation gets serious enough, I have plenty of firepower at my disposal."

To say the least.

"I'm pretty good with swords!" And guns, and spears, and everything else that had been stashed away in the armory room of Kinzan temple, along with a particular little Smith and Wesson that would serve his son so well in the future. Blessed, no doubt, by the head priest of the temple himself, now sitting here letting some guy smudge magic goop onto his hands. As you do.

"--But it's really not necessary. I don't really want to carry more stuff! Plus, I definitely might break it."