All the glory, all legacies that warriors forge are nothing but a big lie so that youngsters look up to them and try to be as much of an animal as they were. In the end, there isn’t a single killer who is proud of the people he killed. First, they drink alcohol; then, the alcohol drinks them up. If they survive that fate somehow, they become like Thomas, roaming around and searching for redemption in religion and gods they know do not exist.
Anyway, so here he was, living the life of constant torture. He was irritated at the start, but because his agency had forced him into retirement and he had nowhere better to go, he made the wise decision and held on. After all, the hardships he faced here were less than nothing to the ones he faced on his duty. If the mother monks were capable of je
