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As always. It was the only answer, it was the final answer to the riddles of Hainei. Strength. Strength was the only guidance one needed to live their life by. Richard was adamant he'd never need to heed anything else except this exquisite meme passed down to him by the Dreaded Father.
The Chosen picked up his bident and propped himself up. He took a moment to pull the capirote back over his head and then sauntered off from the Middle, back towards where his force made camp.
They left him. The do-nothings. The bloody serfs. He thought, while he was leading, what were they doing? Blind pillaging, mindless hedonism. It was the same mistake that caused the sacrifice of the Inebriates, and yet now that he was wounded, they thought they could detach. That was what Richard reasoned, in his small brain. Of course, he thought it was the Necromancers. It must had been their fault, they had the most sway, the most authority beyond him...
...They were vital to fulfilling the Dreaded Father's will, thus they must had seen themselves are more potent, more valuable than the Chosen One!
"T-They di-did this. They... they waited." He said to himself; "T-They waited and pushed me to this..."
His reason was senseless, yet he fully believed it. The man who undertook willfully a challenge.
"They're j.... just jealosh...."
Wanting his power, he thought...
