Rider smiles, proud indeed of his Noble Phantasm. A remnant of the good days, when the men would have followed him headlong into hell and back again. Slowly he nods his head and finds his fingers take solace in pushing through her hair, however short it may be.

"Indeed, my Noble Phantasm reflects my army and its incredible strength," he confirmed. "My army in its prime. Do not misunderstand - they did not suspect my involvement with my father's murder because my mother told them I was involved. Quite the opposite; she never said a word about it. My mother would do anything to protect me, to keep me alive and under her thumb."

The next part is more difficult for him to admit. Rider has to take a heavy sigh before looking to her eyes, getting lost in them for the briefest of moments. He's been in such greenery before, hasn't he? He's held such green emeralds in his palm before, hasn't he? Yet this is the clearest, most serene shade of green that he's ever seen.

"...understand, I am dead set on ruling the world," he spoke low. "I pushed them, perhaps too far. I took them farther than any army had gone, but gave them no chance to visit home in between. Many wanted to return to Macedonia. Many of my soldiers wanted out of the army, wanted to turn their back on me..."

All because they did not share his vision, his conquering spirit. He'd gotten greedy, and they weren't willing to pay the price.