Later that day Michael walked with the rest of the mediators toward the Burndan camp. While the Swandian camp hadn’t come across as undisciplined, it was a far cry from the organization he saw there. The Burndan camp was laid out like Stents. A small trench had been dug out and filled with stakes, with the dirt piled around the camp to create a barrier to attack. Gabriel greeted them at the entrance and began walking them toward the center of the camp. The soldiers and knights were all moving with purpose, only taking a moment to bow or salute to Gabriel who acknowledged them with quick salutes or even the occasional personal word. There was admiration in his men’s eyes, idolization. They would die for him. Michael felt an odd kind of pride at that. He’d looked at his son’s Titles and Deeds, as well as his sins. His Titles and Deeds had been impressive, far greater than any of the other kings he’d observed so far. Not only did he have five separate kingly titles, he also had a number of titles related to conquering those kingdoms, personal combat, and even duels. His deeds weren’t the fluffed up type from tourneys and safe scenarios like the king of Stent’s had been, but rather they were from real accomplishments in dangerous situations and were all the more powerful because of it. He was the most powerful individual he’d ever encountered. He likely didn’t compare with the Emperor of Hume that Michael had seen in his visions, but as of that moment he was the closest thing to him.His sins were… heavy. Murders, plots, and betrayals featured heavily. The amount of blood on his hands was tremendous. Thinking of what he’d done, even if he’d been forced to, was enough to make Michael’s eyes begin to tear up. The boy who he’d helped with his homework, taught how to ride a bike, and tucked in every night had enough blood on his hands to drown a village.They reached a central officer’s tent that was serving as a dining tent and sat to eat. Unlike Swandia (...)