Chapter 125: Rejected

"You'd really kill everyone in the city?"

The Merchant nods.

"Everyone that's our enemy?"

"You could handpick the lucky few who survive the reaping, if you so wish."

Anselm turns to me, excitement clear in his eyes, "Asher, this is it, this is our solution!"

"And all I have to do is swear servitude to the God of Death huh"

He nods, like that's the most reasonable thing he's ever heard.

"Uh, no." the look of excitement washes off his face like poorly applied makeup and he edges back away from me.

"Don't you want to save Kaylin?" he sounds absolutely hurt by the thought I might value the lives of a few thousand people in the city over our comrade.

He is certainly not the same Anselm. Old Anselm would be the one outraged by the very idea, not jumping at the very mention of committing genocide, even if it's on our enemies.