The path to perfection is paved with courage, and he’s just been given courageous words to walk on. So he’s encouraged, and he runs on it instead.
He throws out all the statues and idols, and rebuilds one altar to re-drench it in the blood of repentance. And even though there’s chaos to be found in his kingdom’s celebrations, he believes it’s okay, because that too is a form of courage. He even deposed his own grandmother, the queen, because she refused to obey his new laws. (He supposes this could be a different form of courage, the kind that stems from ignorance.)
He was so close to perfection, but he stopped just before crossing the finish line. People say he got tired of running this race, while others sympathise with him and say that he’s just a human – only a human, despite being a king. Perhaps they prefer to underestimate him, and so allow themselves to make their own excuses and give them fearful names. Whatever the reason, there’s still a sense of disappointment, because the line that separates perfection from the road to perfection is made of tragedy.