He felt what he felt, he thought what he thought. Even if it was contradictory to what one might think he should be feeling, it was what it was.
Furthermore, these assaults would've happened whether he assisted in it or not. Elvardia was literally hours away from invading when he joined forces with them.
Then Quinlan began to ponder.
"I mean… these are the minions of my allies, but…"
Quinlan hovered in place, eyes fixed on the rooftop. The skeletons advanced one step at a time, tireless, obedient, empty.
He exhaled again.
While he had not bothered to study the Corpse Animator class in depth, he knew enough. It was rigid and narrow, a far cry from his own necromancy, born from the Harbinger of Ruin subclass of his Primordial Villain main class.
His power worked through souls, identity, memory, and authority. He shaped, refined, and commanded with intent.
Corpse Animators did not.
