A madness that ought not to have been allowed to be. Years of scheming, corruption, and unpredictability.
No – he could see him. Verdant's eyes widened at that fact. He stared in awe, as blow by blow, Oliver forced that Great General across the battlefield. That same Great General who'd nearly killed him in a single blow – who'd knocked him so far, and sent him unconscious. One could never have imagined that these were the same to people.
Verdant recalled the words that Hod had said to Oliver. "Progress will see this battle won," the Minister had declared, and Oliver had instinctually affirmed it. "I still believe myself to be capable of more progression."
What kind of men dared to predict the likes of progress? Verdant was awed by it. If not for Oliver Patrick, he could never have declared the sort of victory condition that he had. He could never have assumed that men could grow in the midst of battle. Yet here it was.