Oathran had braced himself for many things. A request for power, for an army, for a reckoning upon her enemies. He was fully prepared to be the weapon in her hand, the storm that would scour her foes from the earth.
He never, ever thought what she truly wanted was to know what had broken him.
But now, seeing the mountain of mana stones, the reality-defying cane, the potential of her ability… he knew. She didn't need him for revenge. She could wage that war alone and emerge victorious.
Though, he still very much preferred to be the one to personally reduce every last one of them to ash.
After all, he had come to believe this divine second chance, this miracle of their survival, had a single purpose. To see Cecilia Araceli restored to the throne she had been so brutally stolen from.
And after that final duty was fulfilled, his purpose would be complete. He would finally be able to leave this world, his conscience clear, his deepest wish granted.
"I see."
