🍁Nine Ancient Obelisks

"They probably lied about his ugliness, hoping Barsikonda would eat him," Ushumgallu slammed his fist on the table. "It's just that weaklings couldn't handle such willpower." Yes, it seems the old man was telling the truth. A real scoundrel... But is there a place for such people in our time? It seems Calcite has lost not just the ruler of Barsina and his greatest warrior, but also a long and glorious era that produced the strongest and best people. Ushumgallu is unlikely to capture Amazons or engage in banditry in the desert... What pathetic times. He read his favorite passages a couple more times, hoping to understand how to live the same kind of life, but the conclusions were repeatedly discouraging. His father lived by the unwritten laws of his era, and he will have to do the same. "But that doesn't mean you can't be a cool scoundrel." Being smarter, tougher, stronger, and never settling for less – that's a good life plan, even in these pathetic times. Ushumgallu clenched his fist, feeling the same strong blood coursing through his bulging veins. Finally, having learned the author's name, he goes to sleep in a cheerful mood. He will sleep late tonight – until midnight, bandits, slaves, and severed heads will be swirling in his mind amidst the familiar, endless sands.