"Please…" One of them murmured, as Oliver stepped forward. He was on them a moment later, without mercy. Two men were cut down in an instant, their blood joining their comrades, as it ran out against the floor.
The last man gave a thrust with his spear – a poor thrust, given his fear. Oliver snatched the weapon from his arms with a forceful motion, and delivered a fist to the man's face, sending him hurtling against the wall. It wasn't enough to kill him, but it would be enough to keep him unconscious for a while.
With the sound of his body falling to the floor, and Verdant's raspy breaths, the corridor returned to its previous quiet. The murmurings of the students from earlier seemed to have disappeared, replaced only with the terrible stillness of death. Oliver glanced down at the blood on his hands, and clenched his fist. Even for him, this was a little too bloody.
