Honorable battle sustains a Sacred Band.
It is hard to battle anger, for whatever it wants it pays from the soul.
Wisdom, Niko thought as he leaned his cheek against his long-handled rake, cannot be had without price. And that price is blood. The sound of it in your veins. The pound of it in your head. The volume of it in a human body; the sickness when you've spilled it.
What would the world be without him, and those like him?
I'm reverent from a distance.
Time to unite the Sacred Bands, Thebans and his people: one unit, one heart, one swing through life.