Liam had learned many things after leaving Krosstoen village, way too many to count. They were even disparate, going from the most intricate and profound alchemical recipe to the act of pleasing his woman in bed.
Nevertheless, as Liam dived into the hellish landscape of flames and yellow fumes, he knew he was home. The environment obviously had nothing to do with it. The feeling stemmed from the profound confidence of doing the job right for him.
The army was still catching up with Red Boar and Black Hound, so Whispering Wind had to hold back on her cleansing.
For now, the swamp created by the Master's Pride was a domain only Liam could navigate without problems, and flying above prey with a bow in hand put him in the role he was born to play.
Killing the Church's members wasn't the point. Escaping was, but Liam couldn't forget his stance on life. It was open season now, and he was the hunter on the scene.
