The Undead Hero's question set me back in my seat, my tail twitching in surprise. "What am I?" I repeated dumbly.
Connor nodded, gripping the table tightly. His black eyes, usually shrouded in darkness, held a glint of nervousness. "Millions," he continued, his grip on the table tightening. "You wade through the blood of millions. How could anyone cause so much death? And yet," he paused, his gaze shifting beyond my flesh and into the depths of my soul. "You are as pure as a child."
I tilted my head, idly raising a hand and stroking my horn. "I'm not sure I understand. What do you mean?"
