"Stop me? What nonsense are you talking about?"
With a careless swing of the Beam Axe Sword, Azdahak looked down on the young man blocking his way.
"Young master, whose side are you really on? You, inheriting the bloodline of those who defy the gods and having lost your family to that man, what meaning does your attempt to stop me hold? Do you think maintaining the status quo is acceptable? Or are you content playing a role in his script?"
By the end of his words, his relaxed tone had shifted to one of angry disappointment.
Indeed, the choices of others were their own affair, and whatever the outcome, they were responsible for it, having nothing to do with Azdahak. But to Azdahak, Roland was different.
Heir, foster child, observation subject, boy genius, the lucky one entangled in romance... none of these dazzling halos could catch Azdahak's attention. The humiliation of once being defeated certainly concerned him, but it was insignificant compared to being a "heretic."
