The Bloodstained Path

Flowsand was the first to regain her cheer, “Don’t think so far ahead. Didn’t we win this one?”

“That’s true!” Richard laughed. He was their leader; if he was in low spirits himself, how would he guide the rest?

Zendrall walked out of the group and pointed to the still-towering Tidor, “Master, this corpse…”

Richard creased his brows, “Tidor was a true fighter…”

“Most saints are true fighters!” the necromancer emphasized. However, these words caused Rolf’s face to warm up for some reason. Seeing Richard still wanting to say more, Zendrall hastily added, “My Lord! If you want to respect true warriors, I will never have any death knights!”

Richard hesitated for a moment before finally letting out a sigh and nodding his head. On this plane where a crisis awaited at every step, the first priority was to grow his might. He could not lessen his followers’ chances of survival just because of his respect for his enemies.

Zendrall immediately grew excited. A wave of his hand and four warriors of darkness walked out from a spell formation, carrying Tidor’s corpse outside the barracks area.

Richard leapt onto his horse and began patrolling through Camp Bluesquare, assisting his troops in the clean-up operations. At the same time, he issued for one of his elite humanoid warriors to enter the command tent back in their own camp.

The spacious tent was filled with intoxicated laughter. Most of the noble commanders were immersed in their drink, jokes, stories,...