Kallen stood at the door, listening to the grandfather and grandson laughing inside, and could not help feeling moved.
With such a terrible calamity suddenly befalling his family, Woforen, as its head, had undoubtedly suffered the greatest blow. Yet even now, he chose to set aside all his anger and grief to comfort his only surviving grandson as best he could.
The dead were already dead. He hoped the one still alive would not have to carry guilt.
Without Woforen's reassurance, Leon would spend the rest of his life mired in self-reproach and shame: on the night his family was slaughtered, he had been lying in the Pastry Shop.
Not everyone possessed psychological resilience as terrifying as Neo's. In fact, even Neo had been searching all along for a reason to keep living.
If I were in Woforen's place, would I do this?
Kallen did not think he would. He would descend into madness, and hatred would overwhelm his reason. He could never lower his head and use a soothing voice to ease the enormous knot taking shape in his grandson's heart. He would have no attention to spare.
Perhaps that was the difference. He still had a long way to go before becoming someone like Woforen.
Spell Arts could be learned quickly, formations could be understood quickly, and one's level could rise quickly. But in life, there were always things that needed time to deepen, or perhaps... to settle.
"Captain Kallen..."
Kallen heard Woforen calling him from inside.
"Yes, Your Eminence."
Kallen first saluted at the door, then walked inside. Looking at Leon kneeling beside the bed and holding Woforen's hand, he hesitated, but ultimately did not kneel to make conversation easier.
It was not that he still minded kneeling at a time like this. Rather, the Chief Bishop