The game had ended
…
Baldur held Sentras Nicholas by his thin shoulder and roughly placed him on his knees.
The man's physique had shrunken, and he now looked like a shriveled-up old carcass. Although the wounds on his body had regenerated, it didn't look like he was in any position to engage the crew.
"I told you! 'You wouldn't like me! If you didn't get out of my face'." Baldur said as he lifted his axe into the air and went for a beheading.
"Stop!"
Baldur's axe stopped a few centimeters away from the unguarded neck. Jane touched Baldur and looked him in the eyes. Baldur nodded and made way, such an action heavily shocked Sentras, "Are they protecting me? Pitying me? No, it's something else, but what is it!"
He kept thinking, contemplating, but suddenly, he felt something overtake him. He felt something primal–he felt fear.
He glanced around for the source, skimming around at everyone that hated him–quite an easy task,
