When did Good die? Li Du wasn't sure.
He saw this old despot once again—or rather just a part of the old despot—and it looked as if he had been torn apart by five horses. Li Du only saw his upper body.
Good's head was coated with a glass-like substance, perhaps amber, which had frozen his final facial expression.
If it could even be considered an expression.
Li Du stared at it for a few seconds and then his face twisted. It was too horrible. Good's facial features were so distorted . . .
Later, the mess of the battlefield was being cleaned up. This had nothing to do with him. He refused to stay here and looked at Remonin. "I am going back to your camp now. I don't want to stay here another minute."
"Alright," Remonin said joyfully, "but you and your friends should change first, right? Your clothes are filthy, no?"
Li Du understood what Remonin meant: he was worried that Li Du had taken something from here.
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