“You really seem to… hate the worshippers of Lust.”
“Of course I do! I want to experience what they call in the south a truly passionate love. True love, one and only love! Not fall for somebody only to find out they were a worshipper of Lust!”
“Says the person who falls in love immediately whenever someone treats them kindly.”
“Crusher!”
“Just go south already. Though I bet you’ll come crawling back in less than a year because you’re bored.”
“What about you, Crusher? What are you going to do if I never come back?”
“What do you mean, what? I’d enjoy the peace after getting rid of an annoying bastard.”
Watching Hawkeye and Crusher bicker back and forth, I let go of the shock I had briefly felt.
Right. If someone spent all their time on the battlefield, their sense of morality could get a little broken. And since I knew nothing about what that person had lived through, I had no right to condemn the cruelty either.
“I’ve been thinking this for a while now, but neither of you seems like a typical northerner.”
Of course, that didn’t mean I was defending it.
This world as a whole had human rights pretty thoroughly screwed, and survival itself was difficult unless people were like this, so I was simply accepting it as unavoidable.
By the laws of this world, it wasn’t even some huge crime, was it? Killing criminals who were…