"Your words are quite unpleasant to hear, Mr. Life's Call. You should be grateful that I'm rather busy right now and have no spare time. Otherwise, your fate today definitely wouldn't have been pretty. You should know that my class level is about to improve. Right now, I really want to find some blind fool of a punching bag to practice my combat spellcasting on."
Hearing the Bright Moon priest's arrogant words and attitude, Punk narrowed his eyes in irritation. Leaning silently against a tree with only half its crown remaining, he stared at the ever-smiling cleric. Whisper of Destruction had no intention of conceding even an inch in this verbal clash.
To be honest, the caster did not care in the slightest whether he was taking the blame for a genuinely bad person. After all, as the Evil Archmage famous throughout the Multiverse, the Silencer temporary reviewer's reputation had already been tarnished beyond repair by the Mage Guild and Pantheon's successive publicity campaigns.
Who knew how many Legends now believed that the "monster caster" living on the Hatak vast plain was evil and insane, someone who would indiscriminately slaughter anyone he disliked? And in the bards' songs of the mortal world, the title Whisper of Destruction had been demonized into "the unstoppable destroyer of worlds, the ruler of all things' end, the Great Demon God who crushed half the lives in the Multiverse every time he awakened"!
With so many terrifying reputations already attached to him, would Punk care whether he gained or lost another insufficiently imposing title like "Butcher of the Elven Royal Court"?
In any case, the only legendary organization in this world likely to meddle under the excuse of "punish evil" was the Pantheon. And Punk, who had killed "a large number" of Pantheon's priests, had