"Why are you bowing?" I asked, looking confused.
"You are one of the few people who have been chosen by Perfection. This rarity occurs approximately once every thousand years." He looked up, his eye still closed.
"I, Fenrir, therefore apologize for attacking you. You must know, I come from a divine family. My father is Loki, a god who was chosen by Imperfection. He was a brutal exploiter, forced people into slavery, and did despicable things to them. My mother, however, was an ordinary mortal. She fell in love with this monster's outward appearance and gave her life to give birth to me, a demigod. I am nowhere near as powerful as my father was, but he died. That was a very long time ago. I did my best to kill all the gods and erase them from this world. Imperfection is a disgusting god who does whatever he pleases. He doesn't care about the suffering of his own creations. Now, we don't know who created us. We basically know nothing about them, except that they exist and choose people to serve them. The fact that you were chosen by Perfection is a sign that you have a pure heart. My father erased some of them during his lifetime, which I find rather unfortunate. I, however, don't want you to die. We're working toward the same goal, you know?" he said, grinning at me. His white hair fell down from his head. It was shoulder-length, but very well-groomed for Viking standards.
"Same goal, you say? You kill people. According to your stories, you already resemble your father quite a lot," I said sarcastically.
"No. I only rob these people for their own protection. For the protection of humanity as a whole, rather. I have already killed five gods. These gods would have already destroyed this village and killed everyone here. I know how disgusting these gods are. My father forced my mother to give birth to me and caused her death in the process. I don't want another person to experience something like that. Besides—"
I interrupted him.
"Apologize to her." I pointed at the woman, who was now only crying. She sat on her knees and didn't even look toward us.
"You stop enslaving people, and make it right," I said firmly.
"I'm only robbing them so that I have enough provisions to kill the gods," he replied.
"A wise warrior like you should know that we cannot allow the suffering of some to stop the suffering of others. Isn't it suffering itself that you want to end? Protect the people here from the gods and from suffering instead. I'll take care of the rest," I said. The last sentence came out of my mouth as if it had already been predetermined that I would say it. It felt so good to say those words.
But suddenly, I heard the familiar voice in my head again.
"You have found your purpose. Fight for the well-being of all creations."