Benign looked at the man.
"Take him inside. He needs care."
As they dragged the man away, his smile faded. "You bear the mark! You truly bear the mark of the Prince!"
Benign shook his head. Psychiatry had never been his expertise.
Even if one received the short end of the stick, they should fight for the struggle. Long sticks are more susceptible to breaking than short ones, after all.
The old Protector finally walked over while Benign cleaned blood from his hands. "Thank you."
"Please don't." Benign continued working. "I believe I participated in my mission. Not just helping here."
"Well, your mission as a Protector is to help." The old man paused. "This outpost shouldn't have fallen. If I had returned earlier, those sixty lifeless bodies outside would've been saved."
Benign glanced toward the entrance. Sixty dead. He lowered his gaze. "Where did you go off to?"
