He hated it.
Ashkan hated how he looked right now, he felt that he is no different from the man that was kneeling down before his sword. How horrifying he thought he looked at this moment.
But there was no turning back at this point.
He held his sword up while looking directly at Armin's eyes, the man was too still as if he wanted to die. Why is he doing all of this? Ashkan thought but knew that thinking about this now won't change anything.
"Why aren't you scared?" Ashkan whispered while holding up his sword. He didn't know if he was ready to hear the answer, does he even dare to know why?
Involuntarily, his body acted alone, the sword was now slashing through the air. To Ashkan, the hissing sound of the air was loud enough to cover the gasps from the people present in the throne room. The split seconds that passed as the sword came down felt like hours for Ashkan, it was enough for him to translate the movement of Armin's mouth as the sword slashed through his flesh.
