"Are you going to condemn me again with all that talk of duty and morality?" Slan watched He Ao and sneered. "Are you going to stand on your moral high ground, point fingers at me, and call me a lackey? I've done quite well as a lackey. I don't see a problem with it." "I remember you still have family living in Kwotela. After I returned, I stopped them from settling scores with your family. You're much younger than I am, and quite a few of your relatives lived to see that day." He Ao looked at him calmly and asked the same question again. "Do you regret what happened back then?"
Slan fell silent.
A lonely, cold wind swept across the land and through the illusory figures below.
The phantoms born of lingering obsessions slowly turned their gazes toward Slan.
"If I'd regretted it, I never would have made it this far." The Crimson Giant raised the massive blade in his hand, his voice calm and hoarse. "I've never regretted the path I took. I've never thought I was a good man, either. Everyone who died by my hand became fuel for my progress. Without them, I wouldn't be where I am today."
His palm brushed the Crimson Blade, and fierce flames sprang to life along its edge. "I've always been grateful to them. Grateful for their contribution to my progress."
He raised his head and looked at He Ao. "If you want to judge me, then show me your strength. Let me see whether you, righteous Old Guy, have the power to judge me."
"I have no wish to judge you, and I didn't come to uphold justice." He Ao looked at Slan and spoke hoarsely. "I think you've misunderstood me all along. I'm no champion of justice.