Gahares shrugged and, biting a bandage, simply tied a knot and walked toward the crowd, "This life was originally given by His Highness..."
He blended into the group of infected, whose expressions were either of admiration or fear, leading them quietly away from the central encampment and walked casually towards the shacks that had just become somewhat less crude these past two days.
He gained no comfort from his own dedication, felt no resentment for his own sacrifices, and never thought about receiving any reward; he did it solely for his own redemption.
[It's not for his redemption, but for his own redemption.]
Gahares laughed, feeling fortunate for the profound and vast nature of his mother tongue.
