"You have your pride, you have your freedom," Vol said. "I'll take all that. I'll take everything of worth in this village. I'll need all that, every resource we can get, if we're to stand against an army that size."
"…That's cruelty. Unnecessary cruelty," the Elder lamented. "Why bother? What resources? We only have people here – of the ordinary sort. They're not fighters. Would you make us kneel, and then demand that we fight?"
"I would do what is necessary, when I think it to be necessary," Vol replied, quite honestly. He had no concrete plans yet. "Kneel, Elder, and as my possession, you will be entitled to a degree of my protection."
"You… BASTARD!" Blight hissed, reaching for Vol.
In an instant, Vol's fist flashed, and the man was on the floor, cradling his broken nose. Vol took a step closer, threatening to stomp his ribs.
