“The Saint will protect me.” Even the most god-drunk fool could not believe Sir Galian Berethnet would extend a hand from the heavenly court and shield them from a bellyful of fire. “You speak to one who knows the weakness of the flesh. I slew Sabran the Ambitious on the first day of the Grief. Your Saint,” Fýredel said, mouth smoking, “did not protect her. Bow to me, and I will spare you the same end. Refuse, and you will join her now.”
He said “fuck your god he can’t protect you” lol
