The stranger's most interesting remark was delivered in a casual, off-hand manner. 'The Age of Gods'. A grandiose term, to be sure. Dantes had encountered many gods in his lifetime, all of them self-proclaimed and all of them now acquainted with the grave. The Count was not disinclined to believe in God, but he preferred the concept of a transcendent being to an imminent one. He did not worship God in the conventional sense but chose to act as his instrument of divine wrath. God, if he existed, had imparted man with free will. From free will stems the capacity for evil. But free will could also be used to punish that same evil. Dantes did not care if, in exacting his vengeance, his heart is steeped in a colour darker than black. He would gladly join all the souls he had punished in their damnation. But until then, he would continue to act as the vengeful hand of God. The Count cared naught for the doctrine of forgiveness in this life and punishment in the afterlife. He could not be certain Hell exists. The possibility that evil could run rampant in this life and escape unharmed...that was the greatest possible injustice. No, the Count would ensure those who inflicted evil suffered for it, in the here and now. They would not escape justice. They would not escape him.
"I have always acted as God's instrument of vengeance. I do not believe gods walk among us, but I would not deny the testimony of my senses to the contrary. If God existed and we happened to meet, I would ascertain his or her nature for myself. If I deem him to be benevolent, I may act in his service. If I deem him to be impotent, I will continue to reap souls with my own hands. If he reveals his nature to be malevolent...then perhaps it is time God experienced his own wrath". Dantes did not vary his pitch or expression as he spoke. He spoke with no bravado, no desire to impress. Every word was delivered matter-of-factly, without a trace of pretence. The only difference that could be perceived was the quiet intensity in his eyes as he mused on the concept of a malevolent god. The conversation had resurrected old contemplations, thoughts best left buried in the prison they were born.