For too long, they had been stifled by the mundanity of ruling, petty raids on sun-bleached villages or dreary missions of subjugation where small towns preferred to pay their tithes in gold rather than in blood and meat. It was profitable, yes, but it was tedious.
Gold was good, but blood was better.
Blake believed there was no better way to consolidate a lasting peace than to occasionally drench the ground in fresh war. It kept the men's blood from thinning and ensured the enemy stayed on their toes, forever looking at the horizon for the Red Angel's wings.
He slammed his axe into the rib-cage of a panicked soldier,christening him for the mortality he was.
