"Indeed. Only he could possibly have made such a fool's errand bear fruit." It had been unconventional and foolhardy to the extreme, challenging a foe so many orders of magnitude larger than them with such limited troops and supplies, in such a tight timeframe. Even forcing their way into the nearly impenetrable fortress..... The odds had never once been in their favor.
Exactly as Claude liked it, no doubt. Of course they had been underestimated until it was too late, protected by the sheer, brazen absurdity of those stunts. Even Seteth can't help the hint of fond exasperation creeping into his tone.
Felix's recounting sobers him quickly enough, though. Dimitri reduced to a mad wretch, consumed with the desperate need for revenge and blind to all else, hardly able to tell friend from foe on his rampage--he remembers that sight all too well, even though he hadn't stood at the man's side. But that he could be pulled back from the brink before Edelgard and her men finished him, at the cost of Rodrigue's life.....
How abhorrent. The very thought turns his stomach. It's not a noble deed, not a chivalrous death, not a fitting or admirable end, not something to cling to for cold comfort in your grief--it's a tragedy. It's a Goddess-damned waste. Had Dimitri been truly so far gone that only the voices of the dead could reach his ears, rather than the pleas of those who weren't yet lost?
Seteth doesn't voice any of it; Felix doesn't need to hear it, after all. He simply squeezes Felix's hand instead, voice soft and solemn. "I'm sorry. Your father was a good man."
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Exactly as Claude liked it, no doubt. Of course they had been underestimated until it was too late, protected by the sheer, brazen absurdity of those stunts. Even Seteth can't help the hint of fond exasperation creeping into his tone.
Felix's recounting sobers him quickly enough, though. Dimitri reduced to a mad wretch, consumed with the desperate need for revenge and blind to all else, hardly able to tell friend from foe on his rampage--he remembers that sight all too well, even though he hadn't stood at the man's side. But that he could be pulled back from the brink before Edelgard and her men finished him, at the cost of Rodrigue's life.....
How abhorrent. The very thought turns his stomach. It's not a noble deed, not a chivalrous death, not a fitting or admirable end, not something to cling to for cold comfort in your grief--it's a tragedy. It's a Goddess-damned waste. Had Dimitri been truly so far gone that only the voices of the dead could reach his ears, rather than the pleas of those who weren't yet lost?
Seteth doesn't voice any of it; Felix doesn't need to hear it, after all. He simply squeezes Felix's hand instead, voice soft and solemn. "I'm sorry. Your father was a good man."