"For us? A fine sentint, but what does your Alchemy Workshop do other than curry favor with the king?" Among the resentful crowd, there were always a few impulsive voices; these were the ones most deeply poisoned by bitterness.
Those who had reached the depths of despair uttered no words. They remained silent, one foot already in the Eternal Tranquility Realm, too preoccupied to heed anything happening around them.
To awaken such individuals, one either needed an overwhelmingly strong presence or the ability to push their resentnt to its absolute limit.
However, Grand Master Guzan had no intention of awakening them; he continued to busy himself with the task at hand.
He did not wish to exploit the warriors' bitterness, nor did he possess a presence powerful enough to rouse them. All he could do was help these n by removing the Markers from their bodies.
"Are you here to pity us, Great ntor?"
"Look at what your Alchemy Workshop has done!"
The Great ntor raised his head, feeling he had no right to face these warriors. "You are all heroes of the Empire," he said, his voice heavy. "I cannot bla you for your choices. Nor can I change any of this. I know words of comfort are useless now. I only hope that you can find a way to keep going."
"So, Great ntor, you ca here to persuade us to continue this damn plan?"
"You're criticizing our choices, Great ntor, but do you have any idea how many of us walked into this cage because of your na, because of your reputation?"
"I know," the Great ntor answered feebly.
"Then, Great ntor, you still want us to continue down this path? Please, I beg you, tell —where are we supposed to go?"
"Please, Great ntor, tell us the answer! What are we now?"
"We want to hear you say it yourself, Great ntor! Tell us we're monsters!"
Sotis, saving a dying person was harder than killing one; living was so much more difficult than dying. Fresh chapters posted on novel⟡fire
The Great ntor's steps grew heavier, though not because he was defeated by their bitter words. He was a man who had weathered the ages; the crucible of several wars had accustod him to such turmoil. Over the years, he had been wronged, and he had wronged others. He had once mistakenly slaughtered an entire village, yet he had also rescued refugees from entire city streets. The world was a tumultuous place of rising and falling fortunes, of debts and grievances. There were no easy explanations, no simple resolutions. All he could do was press on and remove the Markers from these embittered souls.
As for a reason to live—that, they would have to find for themselves.
When a person was truly desperate, no amount of persuasion could reach them.
"Great ntor, say sothing, won't you? What exactly are you doing right now?"
Resentful people were always a bundle of contradictions. They sought to provoke, yet after a while, they craved comfort. They swung back and forth like this, intensifying their own bitterness.
"I ca here for you," the Great ntor repeated, his voice steady.
"For us! You Alchemists always make things sound so grand! His Majesty the King has been completely fooled by your deceptive words!"
The eighth one. Guzan silently removed the Marker from the eighth warrior. Kuyi Tulan is overly cautious, and his desire for control is a little too strong. Perhaps this failure will be a lesson for him. It might even smooth his path to rapid growth in the future...
"Great ntor, are you trying to make excuses for your disciple?" A palpable resentnt still hung in the air of the cage. None of these twenty warriors were easy to deal with. Each was laden with honors, a seasoned veteran of many battles, yet none of them were eloquent n.
"Shut up! You bunch of cowards!"
Suddenly, another person appeared in the cage. This man had only one eye; the other socket was an empty hollow. In fact, one entire half of his face was disfigured.
It was Blaine, leader of the Seven Knights of Honor, and concurrently the Commander of the Empire's Silver Lion Knights.
"Commander Blaine!" A few of the n recognized him, but none dared to step forward. They felt they could no longer face this renowned commander.
"My apologies, Great ntor. I'm late." Blaine had been waiting outside the Alchemy Workshop for word from the Great ntor, but he hadn't expected to be delayed by another matter. Initially, he'd thought the Great ntor might be overstating the situation, but an incident outside the workshop doors had completely changed his mind.
By the ti he fully grasped the situation, the Great ntor had already been calling for him for so ti.
The Great ntor, however, hadn't held out great expectations for Blaine. He rely hoped Blaine could offer so comfort to these warriors who had temporarily lost all hope.
After all, the Empire's foremost "monster" might, at the very least, offer a sliver of kinship to these desperate n trapped in the cage.
With common ground, there was a chance to find the will to live.
"You bunch of cowards!"
"Commander!"
"So you've beco monsters? Does that an you can't go on living? Look at —am I not alive and well?"
"Commander, with all due respect... your injury is to half your face. You can just cover it with your hair and still walk among people..."
"Bullshit! Do I need to hide it? When have I ever bothered to hide it!"
Commander Blaine was furious; he couldn't stand seeing these n so devoid of spirit.
"A bunch of cowards! You think you can't go on living just because of this?"
"Commander, we aren't suicidal! If you ordered us to face Mountain Monsters and Tree Spirits, we wouldn't flinch! But how are we supposed to live? Wherever we go, we'll be treated as monsters. Even under His Majesty's protection, we'd feel utterly stifled!"
"It's not death we fear, nor the strange looks from others! We fear having no place where we belong!"
"Nonsense!" Blaine retorted. "There's room for you to stand anywhere under the heavens."
"But am I still... ?"
"And why wouldn't you be?"
"Even if I accept it, even if you accept it, and His Majesty the King accepts it—will the entire Empire accept us? Wherever I go, I'll be a monster, abandoned, hunted! Commander, weren't you treated the sa way when it first happened to you?"
"Bullshit! I stand tall and fear no one! Who the hell dares to lay a finger on ?"
Blaine was indeed a hard man to break. His disfigured half-face had once caused a great stir in the Empire. People feared it, shunned him, and lodged complaints. Eventually, even His Majesty the King couldn't help but urge him to cover it with a helt. But the stubbornly defiant Blaine never complied, nearly losing his life for his obstinacy. If the Great ntor hadn't interceded on his behalf, Blaine's ravaged face—and likely he himself—would have vanished from the world long ago.
It seed Blaine's arrival hadn't made much of a difference. The argunt only grew more heated. After removing the final Marker, the Great ntor looked at the quarreling n and sighed once more.
"Commander, you also suffered such treatnt. But look at us now... do we even look human anymore?"
"Wanting to die is an act of cowardice! No matter what you say, the way you're behaving now makes you cowards! Scum!"
"Commander, have you ever considered what would have beco of you, if not for the Great ntor back then?"
"A beheading? Just another scar! If I went to the Eternal Tranquility Realm, I'd go down as a hero!" Blaine didn't fly into a rage because they brought up his past. He had faced countless accusations without flinching and had long been immune to such barbs.
"That's what we think too!"
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