Clayton won the battle, but as the situation had it, he didn't win the war. His path towards revenge just started, and he paid little mind to his goal, as he believed that it was simple, and he was to achieve it eventually no matter what, or who stood in his path.
He wanted to kill the King, and the King's Guard too. This goal might seem impossible to some, and it actually was impossible to most, but he wasn't the slightest bit anxious about his goal.
Unlike in the past, when his family was slaughtered, and the following decades where he practiced forgiveness, he was now backed up by two, very overpowered aspects. He had a cloning system to back him up, and he started scratching the surface of what Fleshmancy had to offer.
Perhaps he was a few decades late on the latter matter. He could've spent all these years developing his God-given abilities, and progress into a truly Godly force to be reckoned with, but he believed that his journey was meant to start today.
Clayton heard faint whispers that the King, who likely gave the order to kill his family so many years ago, was still alive. Only the Divines knew what the King had to do to live this long, but he didn't care for it, and he didn't even want to give the King the privilege of thinking about him all that much. The King was to die soon anyway, and any alternative, or perspective was not worth dwelling on.
Anyway, after he ended the battle, he figured that now was the best time to get dressed. He has been running around naked for a solid hour now, and was catching a draft after his adrenaline dialed down, as he was drenched either in his own sweat, or the blood of the enemy.
He couldn't walk around naked forever, after all, so he stole the clothes, and armor right off of one of the many 'withered' skeletons around him.
The skeletons were so brittle, that they broke when he stepped on them. Likewise, the one who had been wearing the armor which he fancied, also broke apart to the touch. He had to shake the remains of the skeleton out of the clothes, and Iron Armor as if he was dusting a bunch of dirt away.
"I wonder how much they paid for this armor?" He mumbled, "It didn't do them any good today, did it?"
The armor seemed expensive. It likely belonged to a Hero, as it had three gems across the chest-plate, the gem in the middle being the biggest of them all, as to signify the Rank of the Hero.
Not every man or woman could wear armor like this. They wouldn't even be allowed to do so unless they had written consent from one member of the King's Council, or their many assistants. Wearing such armor otherwise was a crime, and was punishable by death, based on what Clayton remembered, but he was hardly bothered.
"They can try to kill me," He smirked, as he put the armor on.
The gems on the armor were rubies, which signified the lowest rank amongst Heroes, but he saw this as a good thing. He wasn't scared of any man, Guard, or otherwise, but he'd rather wear a piece of armor that didn't catch too much attention as he unfolded his plans amongst the masses. He figured that he had to fit in within civilization one way or the other, at least for a while, because he couldn't live in the mountains like a homeless 'survivor man' all the time, and this armor was his way in.
Assuming a random guard didn't ask him for the confirmation stamp, the same stamp that would permit him to wear the armor, he should be fine, and perhaps even celebrated by strangers.
After he put it on, he looked at himself, kicking his foot back like a teenage girl who put on a newly bought outfit, and liked what he was seeing. His family used to be well off, they were wealthy, but regardless, this armor was the most expensive thing he wore in his entire life!
"Damn heavy…" He grunted, "Perhaps that's a good thing? It'll give those sons of unwed mothers the illusion that I need armor. I'll take it off when I have to."
Anyway, after he got set up well, he looked around him, and since the heat of the prior battle had already died down, be it around him, or within his head, his blood, he looked at the many withered corpses, and couldn't help getting greedy.
Clayton had managed to kill hundreds of people today, and since his abilities couldn't melt metal of any sort, the aftermath of the battle was a gold-mine, essentially.
All of the sorts of armor around him were expensive, for one thing, but there were other riches too, such as gold and gems. He found a small bag of gold coins within the armor he was wearing, and after that, as he bent down and picked up another bag from one of the recently deceased, he found a total of twelve rubies.
Twelve rubies was enough for him to buy a big plot of farm land, somewhere outside the outskirts of the city. It was plenty, but he was no farmer.
"Maybe I can use a few bags to buy myself an advantage that my slaves can't give me?" He plotted. "Yes… maybe there's a way for me to attack the City of Fik without fighting my way through?"
Clayton tried his best to devise a plan, and it might take him a couple of days to do so, but he wasn't in a rush. His current undead slaves were to be pack mules over the following days, as he planned to make them raid every corpse who wore metal-based armor, and then drag them towards the city, or any close-by settlement, really. He just needed to find a spot to sell the armor, be it a few at a time, or all of them at once.
Before that, he wanted to spend some time pulling out leather bags of riches out of the skeletons, but overall, he had some work to do today. He was busy, but then his task was interrupted for a moment, as he saw the Advocate of Thaleena approaching him.
The Advocate was fearless, he wasn't bothered by Clayton's slaves, and judging from the look on his face, he walked over here to thank Clayton, above anything else! He wasn't repelled by his abilities, not at all.