Barit did not care in the slightest about Adrian's explanation. He had an innate aversion to complicated matters. He did not care about the process, only the result.
Perhaps it was precisely this brute's personality that allowed Adrian, a lonely and suspicious bastard since childhood, to trust him.
"Oh! So what do we do next? We command these idiots' armies to wage war after war and create even more slaughter, right? Oh, right, Adrian, you'll become a god someday, won't you? That means you won't care much about anything in the mortal world, so how about giving the lands we conquer to me? Oh, oh, this is such a brilliant idea! I never thought I'd become a king! Do you think it's too late for me to start learning etiquette now? Tsk, tsk. I don't like that stuff, but if it means becoming king, I think I can accept it."
Barit had quite an imagination, and honestly, the possibility was fairly high. Gods had no need for worldly power. As Adrian's comrade-in-arms and first follower, there was nothing wrong with Barit becoming Adrian's representative on earth.
Adrian looked at the fool with an expression somewhere between laughter and tears. Sometimes, he wondered whether his terrible childhood had left him with some sort of psychological illness, making him find such a bizarre friend for himself.
"Hey! Buddy! Wake up. We're still being hunted down by the Church of Fear and the churches of other good gods, while the churches of other evil gods are watching us like hawks. Isn't it a little early to be thinking about all that?"
Truthfully, a rising cult like the Slaughter Cult had a hard road ahead. First of all, churches of good gods generally employed the harshest measures to wipe out new sects like this.